What's in a lie
by Krummbein1
Summary: Lying isn't so bad if you're not hurting anyone, right? Right? At least that's what he kept telling himself whenever another lie came over his lips: he wasn't hurting anyone... except himself - Puck's family - Full summary and warnings inside
1. Disclaimer, Summary, Warnings

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Glee or any of its characters. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and the Fox Broadcasting Company. This story is for entertainment purposes only!

**Summary:**

_Lying isn't so bad if you're not hurting anyone, right? Right? At least that's what he kept telling himself whenever another lie came over his lips...__ he wasn't hurting anyone..._**  
**

Puck's life hasn't exactly been easy, and honestly? Glee club ruining his reputation? Not the biggest problem right now. Sure, his father running out on them had been a low, and life hadn't been the same since then. However, compared to the current situation it had almost been perfect... But then, a little over two years ago, _he_ had to show up and ruin everything...

It wasn't the pain, though... he could take that. It was more the lying about it that started to get to him... and sometimes he just wished for someone... _anyone_... to really look at him, to see through all the lies... to save him from this nightmare...

**Reviews:**

Please read and review... let me know what you think! I'm generally open for all kinds of reviews... just no flames, please. And if you don't like - or even hate - this story, just be constructive and tell me why... I'll take all the help I can get! But you can write nice things, too, of course...

**Warnings:**

Rated for language, violence and mention of child abuse… nothing too explicit, though… (at least not yet…)

Rated M to be on the safe side!

**Setting:**

Takes place somwhere during Season 2:

Here's what you need to know about the background of this story: Puck already was in juvie, Sam is with Quinn, Rachel with Finn (but the whole couples thing won't be that important in this story… no love story here…). About the relationship between Puck and Quinn, and Puck and Finn… I don't know enough about the season to be sure on those, so for the sake of this story: they aren't on the best of terms. Though Puck and Finn behave normal enough at school and glee rehearsals… but not in their spare time. Let's just say it's still a little awkward.

The Kurt storyline of Season 2 is something else... I had to bent it a little bit to make it work for my story. For one, he didn't leave McKinley High. And I don't know if Finn and Kurt still share that room in Season 2, but in this story, they do.

There will also be an OC in this story (who really isn't the nicest guy in the world…). There might be others coming along, but only in small roles… and I'm not even sure about that just now. I've only got five chapters and the finish line… not really sure what will happen inbetween.


	2. Prelude

**Prelude**

"I like setting stuff on fire and beating up people I don't know, I own that. But I'm not a liar."

Yeah… you keep telling yourself that.

"I kinda got my fight club tonight…"

Another lie. A big one. A cover up.

Not just fight club, though. Being a bully had its perks. He could've gotten into a fight. Football worked great, too: messy sport, lots of accidents, lots of injuries.

But in the end, it didn't matter what lie he told. All he needed was something he could hide behind, something that would explain almost everything showing up on his skin. A reason he could give, whenever asked about a cut on his eyebrow, a bruise on his face, a bandage on his arm. A reason for every time he was sitting in his chair trying not to move because the pain threatened to take over his body. A reason for each limp he'd ever dragged through the halls. A reason for every time Danny decided, that he was nothing but a failure. A reason for every time Danny had too much to drink.

Lying isn't so bad if you're not hurting anyone, right? Right?

At least that's what he kept telling himself whenever another lie came over his lips: he wasn't hurting anyone.

_What about your sister? Don't you worry about her?_

He knew the answer to that one, saw it every freakin' day... No, he really didn't have to worry about her. She was Danny's little princess, Danny's little girl. The man would do anything for Sarah, would buy her the world, if he could.

Who would ask, anyway? It wasn't like he'd told anyone…

This was _his_ secret to keep. Holding on to it seemed to be the only thing that kept him sane. It made him feel strong, to know that he was still able to pretend that everything was fine. It meant that he was still alive, that Danny hadn't broken him… not yet anyway.

So he kept lying. It wasn't like he was hurting anyone… except himself.


	3. Telling a lie

**Telling a lie  
**

Winter wasn't his favorite time of the year… really**,** that season sucked. Especially when you're forced to sleep in your truck - it can get pretty cold when it's winter.

The choice wasn't really his. He didn't mind when it was summer, though - it might be uncomfortable trying to lie down on the back seat, jammed between most of his possessions, but during the summer, it was warm outside, and he kinda liked the idea of being his own boss from time to time.

But the cold months were something else entirely. And it wasn't for another day that he could dare to ask if he could come back home.

Last year, he would have just gone over to Finn's, telling him some adventurous story about one of the MILF's husband coming home and not wanting to wake up his mom coming home so late - "But you can wake _me _up at 2 am?" - and he'd have had a warm place to stay for at least one night, maybe even two, if he'd played his cards right.

But after that whole baby-gate drama he didn't dare showing up at Finn's doorstep. Not to mention Hummel being there - he might have been able to lie to Finn for all those times, but he had the feeling that Hummel wouldn't fall for it. Although, thinking about it, Hummel would probably not even deign to look at him, much less care enough to catch his lie.

Santana wasn't an option either. He didn't exactly know why or how, or even when, but at some point in the last year, they had gone separate ways, and now she was ignoring him, big time. No sex, no sexting… not even normal, harmless texting. Nothing. Nada.

Rachel Berry? Not an option, for a whole number of reasons. First, of course, he would rather light himself on fire than voluntarily expose himself to her obnoxious, self-righteous ramblings. Secondly: if he ever were to mend his friendship with Finn the last thing he should do was being in the same room with Finn's girlfriend at this time of night, and thirdly… alright, he couldn't think of another reason without starting to be unfairly offensive… but the first two were enough anyway. So, no Berry for him!

Quinn? Nah… she'd kill him before she'd let him into her house again. No, really, she would kill him. He practically ruined her life… (and if that new boyfriend of hers were to be there when he showed up… better not even think about that.)

So… there was no one left he could ask. None of the other Glee kids would let him in voluntarily, that's for sure.

Mr. Schue might have been an option, he definitely would care enough to help him out. But in that case he probably would have to start talking - and stop lying. And he wasn't that desperate yet. Mr. Schue had always been his last resort, if the time ever came, that he just couldn't take it anymore, when the wall would finally come crushing down. But he wasn't there, yet, and he was determined to hold on to this curtain of lies as long as he could.

So it was a little bit cold at night… who cared anyway.

He took the second blanket from the floor and put it over the first one. His head rested on a pile of sweatshirts, his Letterman crumpled under the blankets he had pulled up to his chin. But still, he couldn't stop his body from shaking.

Who was he kidding? He was fuckin' freezing to death.

If he had at least some booze to warm him up from the inside. But the store manager had more or less shoved him away from in front of his door after half an hour of unsuccessfully trying to get someone to buy him some alcohol. And he couldn't even use the heater in his car to warm himself up. It would probably use up all the gas and he'd be stuck on this damn side road outside of town. No, he couldn't risk that.

Sleeping was probably not the best idea though. Who knew if he'd even wake up the next morning… well, who'd care if he didn't.

Puck closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. He'd get through this night somehow, he always did. An after a while he dozed off.

A car would drive by every now and then, the lights quickly running over the bent and rusty surface of his truck. But no one ever stopped, no one ever wondered, why this car had been left seemingly abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Probably be different if it were a Porsche or a new, shiny BMW.

He couldn't have slept that long, when a sudden noise took him out of the comforting darkness. He was confused, not sure if he'd just imagined it, if that noise had been part of some forgotten dream. He raised his head, just a little bit, looking around, when he heard it again, like someone knocking at his window.

"Puck?" The voice was muffled, shut out by the layer of metal surrounding him.

A hand appeared at the side window, wiping the misted up pane. The face looking in was just too familiar.

Great… just great…

For a moment, he thought about just lying there, trying not to move. Maybe the man outside would think that he was just blankets and stuff. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to fool that man. He'd already seen him move, there was no denying it.

Puck pulled the blankets away, sat up and started to pull down the window.

"Mr. Schue… what are you doing out here at this time of night?", he asked, the trademark smile on his lips.

"I just got back from a friend's house and when I drove by your truck-", he stopped in mid-sentence and looked at his student, somewhat confused.

"Something wrong? Did your car break down?", Puck asked innocently when he opened the door and got out of his car. "Don't think I have a spare tire lying around, but you can borrow my cell if you need to call any-"

"Stop it, Puck. Don't try and pull that with me!", the teacher interrupted.

"Pull what? I just wanna help…"

"Sure you do. Now tell me what you're doing out here in the middle of-" Mr. Schue's voice trailed off as his eyes wandered over his student, the blankets, the crumpled sweatshirts, the half empty pizza box... "Were you sleeping in your car?" The confusion made room for worry.

"Nah… not sleeping, just hangin' out. Must've forgotten the time." The smile was still spread on his lips, telling the world that he had nothing to hide, that there was nothing to worry about.

"Seriously, Puck. It's freezing out here. Why aren't you in your bed?" Or, at least, in someone else's? Of course, Mr. Schue didn't add that last part… but his mind most certainly did.

It wasn't very often that Puck was at a loss for words. But he really had no idea how to answer that question without telling at least part of the truth, and he wasn't about to reveal any of that. His mind quickly scanned through different possible scenarios that would have left him stranded out here and didn't involve his mother's boyfriend throwing - or rather, kicking - him out of the house. Car broke down? No more gas? I like the cold? Adventure? On my way to a friend's house just making a quick stop? None of them seemed plausible enough. Turning the keys and hearing the motor run would screw up the first two… and the others were just plain stupid.

Puck suddenly realized that he hadn't said a word in almost a minute. No matter what he was about to say, Mr. Schue probably wouldn't believe any of it.

"Like I said… just hangin' out.", he finally said, not sure why he even bothered.

"Did you smoke something?" The worry was replaced by slight disappointment. Not that Puck even cared, but the words offered an opportunity.

He looked up at his teacher, trying to pull off that foggy, wary-eyed look. Having slept pretty badly helped his cause a lot. "I might have…"

Mr. Schue shook his head and sighed deeply. "Did Ryerson get you some of his 'Chronic Lady?'"

"This some kind of interrogation?" Puck tried to sound as defensive as possible.

"Well… yeah." Mr. Schuester looked at his student, not sure what he should think about this.

Puck was leaning against his car, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders pulled up. He tried to hide that his body was still shivering, but it was getting harder with every second he was standing out here in the cold.

"So what… I just got a little high and forgot the time… sue me…"

Once again, Mr. Schuester shook his head, not sure, what to say.

"Look, Mr. Schue… I'm back in reality now, so I should probably head on home…" Puck turned around and opened the door.

"I don't think so, Puck. You still seem to be a little out of it… I won't risk you driving into the next tree. I'll take you home. You can get your truck in the morning."

Damn it. Why did it always have to be this hard? His mom would kill him if Mr. Schue told her about this. And if she wouldn't, her boyfriend would for sure. But it didn't seem as if he had any other choice, not if he wanted to keep his secret.

"Alright… just… don't tell my mom, ok?"

_Please, don't tell my mom._

His back was still turned towards his teacher, but he knew that Mr. Schue was fighting with himself to find an answer to that question.

"Ok, but you will have to talk to Ms. Pillsbury about it. This is serious, Puck, and if I ever find you like this again, I will have to talk to your mother."

Puck nodded.

"Right. And if you have anything of that stuff left somewhere, I'll advise you to get rid of it. Don't need the police to get involved. This could land you back in juvie, Puck, and I don't want to see you there again, understood?"

Puck turned around and looked at his teacher. He knew that Mr. Schue was doing him a lot of favors right now. Never mind that he didn't know that Puck hadn't been near Sandy Ryerson since he'd worked at 'Sheets and Things' and that he hadn't bought any of that 'Chronic Lady' stuff since the bake sale.

"Just get what you need from your truck and let's go… it's freezing out here!"

"You don't say…" Puck turned back to his truck and got his bag. "Ready to go, chief."

He tried to sound cheerful, as if he'd really just gotten out of getting busted for smoking pot, as if he was really relieved, that he dodged the bullet on this one… after all, this was just another lie that kept the truth from being pulled to the surface.

He got into his teacher's car, hoping for the heater to warm him up. He needed to stop shivering, it was getting really exhausting…

After he'd told Mr. Schuester where he lived, they sat silently for most of the drive. Puck didn't feel like saying anything... what was there to talk about anyway? And his teacher didn't try to make awkward conversation.

When they arrived in front of the slightly run-down house half an hour later, Mr. Schuester parked the car and shut down the engine.

"So… goodnight." Puck took his bag an got out of the car, hoping desperately that Mr. Schuester would just drive away.

"Goodnight. And don't forget to go by Ms. Pillsbury's office tomorrow. I'll check up on that!"

"Will do, Mr. Schue." He turned away from the car and walked towards the stairs. He listened for the engine to start again, the car leaving, but he couldn't hear anything. Mr. Schuester was waiting for him to get in… Puck should've expected that much.

He took a deep breath, climbed up the stairs and fished his keys out of his pocket. Still no engine…

He put the key into the lock, just hoping that his mom and her boyfriend were sleeping tightly. If they were to catch him trying to get into the house… well, let's just say that he would probably have to find a new excuse to cover for the bruises, since most of his go-to-alibis wouldn't work after Mr. Schuester had seen him just now. And what could have possibly happened in, let's say, six hours, that would explain his condition?

Puck realized that he was already trying to find a solution to a problem that he didn't even have yet. It might not even come to that… think positive!

_Yeah, right._

He unlocked the door and entered the house, closing it as quietly as possible. He still couldn't hear his teacher's car getting back to life… probably wanted to make sure that he stayed in the house.

Puck leaned against the wall next to the door, slowly sliding to the floor. He just wished for this night to be over…

Five minutes later he could finally hear the engine come back to life, the car driving away. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth. Now, he only had to find a way to get back to his truck, knew, that there only _was_ one way. He would have to walk, and that would probably take him over an hour. But it didn't seem as if he had any other choice. Anything was better than staying here.

He got off the floor and picked up his bag when a voice behind him made him stop in his tracks.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

He couldn't move. He tried to, desperately, but his legs just wouldn't obey his commands.

"We had a rule, Noah. You stay away for at least two days before I can even _begin_ to look at you again. And here you are, one day later… sneaking back into the house."

Puck closed his eyes, holding his breath.

"How often have you snuck back in after I've thrown you out?" Danny's voice was hard, angry. Puck opened his mouth, trying to say something in his defense, but the words never got over his lips.

"ANSWER ME!"

Puck winced, as if the words were physically hurting him.

"Never…" It was merely a whisper, not enough to be heard.

"What was that?" The voice was getting closer.

"I said: Never. I never tried to sneak back in!" His voice was shaking, although he desperately tried to keep it steady.

He suddenly felt a hand on his arm, jerking him around. "Don't lie to me, boy!" The malice in the man's voice was scary, the look in his eyes downright terrifying.

Puck tried to turn his head away so he wouldn't have to look at the other one's face. He felt the iron grip on his jaws, his head being turned, facing the anger that was directed at him.

"I guess I was too soft on you. Probably thought I wouldn't notice." The words were filled with so much venom, that Puck could almost feel the poison running through his body, wearing him down…

"I thought we had an understanding, but you seem to think that you don't have to hold up your end of the bargain."

The pain came without warning, spreading over his skin as if someone was poking his cheek with tiny needles and it took him a moment to realize what had happened, to realize, that it was about to start again.

He felt himself being dragged into the living room, when he stumbled and fell to the floor. The door was closed behind him, blocking his only way of escape.

"You're so pathetic. No wonder you're such a failure… you haven't even learned how to walk."

Puck didn't want to listen to the words thrown at him. He just wanted to keep lying on the floor, just wanted to close his eyes… to fall asleep.

"Get off that floor! NOW!" The hand was back on the collar of his jacket, pulling him up. In those moments he was really glad to have that Mohawk. Otherwise the guy would probably have pulled him up by his hair - not that he hadn't tried that before…

Puck was on his feet again. Not that it mattered… he'd be back on the ground in no time. He just wished that he'd be able to do something about it, to defend himself. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd fought back when it all had started, but had learned the hard way, that there was nothing he could do against that guy - and that it hurt a lot more if he tried.

He'd done it again, anyway, just to find out if he had gotten stronger over time. But until this day he had never been able to score more than one, maybe two, hits. He was just no match for that guy.

A lot of times, Danny would just throw insults at him, explaining why he wasn't worth anything. He would shove him around, maybe throw a few punches, and it would be over. That was, when he was sober, of course. And he hardly ever was sober, at least not in the evening and certainly not tonight. If Puck was lucky, he just woke the guy. But with all the bad luck seemingly cornering him today, Danny probably had just gotten off the couch after emptying one too many glasses.

"Were you drinking, boy?"

Yeah, definitely just gotten off the couch.

"Why do you care? It's not like you've been renouncing the liquor…"

Without warning Puck found himself being pushed against the wall, Danny's hand on his throat.

"Don't you dare talking to me like that. It doesn't concern you if I drink a glass or two…"

"More… like… a b-bottle… or… two…" Puck could barely breathe, let alone talk. And his words weren't about to change that. He could feel the tight grip keeping the air from coming back in.

"Don't. Talk. Back. To. Me."

Puck's eyes were widened with panic when he realized that Danny was still tightening his grip. Was he really going to kill him? Was this how it would end?

He tried to get his arms up, to get Danny's hand off his throat, but whatever strength he might have had when he'd left Mr. Schue's car, he'd probably left it on the threshold. Tiny black dots were starting to appear in front of his eyes. He felt light headed while his lungs desperately screamed for air.

And then it was over. The hand was gone.

Puck breathed heavily, trying to get as much air in as he possibly could. His legs began to shiver and he slowly slid down the wall before they could give out. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the wall, trying not to think about what had just happened.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see someone standing at the door. But it wasn't Danny. It was his mother…

You would think that she would have kicked her boyfriend out when she had first walked in on him hurting her son. But she hadn't. She hadn't even raised her voice against him. She hadn't even told him that he was doing something wrong. At first, Puck had thought, that she just didn't have any strength left to fight, that she just wanted for that relationship to work so badly, that she wouldn't risk loosing it over this. But then he had looked into her face, had seen the disappointment in her eyes. And Puck had realized that even his mother thought, that he deserved what he got… that he deserved what her boyfriend was doing to him.

"Get back to bed, honey…" Danny's voice was suddenly soft and gentle. He only used that voice when he was talking to Puck's mother or sister, he would never give it to Puck. Never.

His mother turned around and he heard her going back upstairs, back to her room where she didn't have to listen to her son's pain.


	4. Another day in paradise

**Another day in paradise  
**

The darkness swept away like a wave that had just run over his body. Everything felt weirdly calm, like he had just woken up from a good night's sleep. Well, at leat until the pain came back...

He opened his eyes, slowly, not entirely sure where he was. His vision was a bit foggy, when the strange pattern of the carpet came into focus.

Why was he lying on the floor? What happened?

"Get out of this house!" A harsh voice, followed by footsteps leaving the room.

Right. That. Nearly forgot about that.

He tried to sit up, which was a lot harder than he'd thought**.** He started coughing and spat out dried blood. Wondered how that got into his mouth, but somehow he got back to his feet. Took him a while to fight the dizziness, though.

Getting back to the door and his bag was a lot harder - and took a lot longer. His face felt weird, and he could still taste the blood in his mouth. Probably should take a look in the mirror before leaving. Not that he would have been given the chance… he would have to settle for the rear-view mirror instead.

Puck sighed heavily, took his bag and left. There was nothing he could change about that now. If he could get to school early enough, he could use the bathroom there, but that would depend on how fast he would get back to his car… if he even got that far.

He turned left at the corner at the end of the street, not sure how he'd gotten there that fast, and took a quick glance at his watch, his vision still a bit blurry. Four-twenty-something am. Maybe four-fifty-something. Couldn't really be sure about that…

He just concentrated on setting one foot in front of the other, to keep going. Question was: was he even on the right way? Didn't need to end up on the wrong side of the middle of nowhere…

When his truck finally came into view, he really couldn't tell how he'd gotten there or how long it had taken him. Didn't really matter though. He was just glad that he did.

Puck took out his keys and tried to open the door. He couldn't even hold his hand steady long enough to get the key into the lock. It slipped through his fingers, hitting the asphalt with a low, shattering noise.

His head hurt. Even more so when he bent down to get the keys. Getting back up just made the whole world spin…

He suddenly remembered that he hadn't even locked his car when he had left it hours earlier. He never locked the car. Although, thinking about it, couldn't have been that long ago, it was still dark outside. But then again, it was dark a lot longer in winter. Another point on the 'why-this-season-sucks'-list.

Puck opened the door and got into the driver's seat. Sitting down felt great. You never know how comfortable a worn out seat can be until you've walked for, like, hours…

He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Now that he had stopped walking, the pain was more present than ever. The eyes open again, he raised a hand to adjust the rear-view mirror. The face staring back at him didn't look so good.

_Just peachy…_

His fingers moved over his cheek, the bruise already visible on his skin. That would be hard to cover up… never mind the dark circles under his eyes. He really should've gotten some sleep. Being all tired didn't really help with finding a good explanation for the condition his face was in. Ran into a door? Probably the lamest excuse ever. Wasn't that what battered wives told the doctors whenever they turn up at a hospital? Walked into a door, fell down the stairs…

At least he hadn't used that one before. Maybe someone would believe it.

He readjusted the mirror to get a better look at his throat. The sight wasn't pretty. He had expected it to be a _little_ bit more colorful than usual, but just not _this_ bad... probably would get even worse before it got better.

He turned in his seat, his hands scanning through the pile of more or less clean clothes lying on the floor in front of the back seat. There should be a scarf down there somewhere, he was sure of it. And against all the odds currently stacked against him, he found it. Shouldn't be too hard to pretend that he had a cold. After all, it was freezing outside, and Mr. Schue could verify that he had been out here last night.

At least one problem solved…

That only left the bruise on his face. He probably could make that door thing work. Trying to sneak into your room in the dark… accidents can happen. It was a good thing that the split lip was on the same side of his face. Running into a door twice? Not so believable…

The cold filling his car suddenly made him shiver. Tending to his wounds he had almost forgotten that it was still winter outside. Puck put the key into the ignition and turned it enough to start the heater. Hot air started to leave the vents making his fingers all tingly when he held them over the warm breeze, and he just sat there for what seemed like hours, until his car was filled with the welcome warmth.

The thought of skipping school crossed his mind, but that would most definitely lead to Mr. Schue turning up at his mother's doorstep, and he really couldn't risk that. No, he just had to hope that he could get through the day without raising any suspicions. The last thing he needed was his teacher poking around in his private life.

Puck opened his eyes again, looking down at his clothes. He should probably change the shirt… the blood just didn't suit him right.

Slowly, he got out of his Letterman, threw it on the passenger's seat, and started to free himself of his shirt. Took him a while, though. Pain didn't really help.

There was another bruise just getting visible on the skin over his ribs, spreading over most of his left side. Just what he needed... another thing that kept him from moving around like nothing had happened. But at least he would be able to cover it up, no difficulties there.

He grabbed another shirt from the back seat and hurried to get it over his head. The car might've warmed up, but it wasn't, like, hot in there, just warm enough to keep him from freezing to death. A look at his jacket told him that he probably shouldn't be wearing it today… a little bit too much red on that one, and it didn't even match the color of the fabric. Too dark.

Well… at least that's what he imagined Hummel might say if he saw the ruined jacket.

He grabbed one of the sweatshirts his head had lain on hours ago. Probably wouldn't be enough to keep him warm, but then it wouldn't be that cold inside the school building, right? Right.

He took another glance at his watch. Still early enough. He might even be able take a shower when he got to school. He could really use one right about now.

Puck sighed and started his car. Just pull yourself together... you've done it before… no one will know…

The parking lot was almost empty when he arrived at McKinley High. Only two other cars were parked in front of the building. At least the risk of being spotted at school long before class was relatively low. But his amount of luck was, too. He probably would run into the only two people that were already here. But then again, he wasn't stupid enough to try and get in through the front door when he had already broken the lock on his secret little backdoor months ago.

He took his bag and got out of the truck, leaving the doors unlocked. No one would steal that one, he was sure of that, for two reasons… One: it was Puck's truck, and no one messed with Pucksaurus. Second: it was just a piece of junk, not worth the trouble you would get yourself into if you dared even touching it.

Puck turned right in front of the building and walked past the dumpsters, heading for the football field. Five minutes later, he was standing in front of an inconspicuous door that most of the students didn't even know existed. The other side of it was blocked by trash cans and other things that no one ever used. It was some kind of supply closet that wasn't supplied with anything but junk. Why it had a door to the outside world? He had absolutely no idea, he was just glad, that it did.

Puck looked around, making sure that no one was watching him, as he quickly opened the door and slipped through. It was pretty dark inside, but he'd been here often enough to find the other door blindly. He just hoped that no one had come in and moved something since he'd last been in here.

He reached the second door without stumbling over anything. His luck seemed to be turning… and how pathetic was that? Thinking that he was getting lucky again just because he didn't fall on the floor each time he took another step? Never mind…

He stepped out into the hallway, turned left, and head for the locker rooms. The door wasn't locked, but when he opened his locker, he realized, that the towel didn't look so good. He probably should've washed it from time to time. But he couldn't be picky right now.

The hot water running down his skin seemed to make everything go away. Puck just stood there for as long as his feet would hold him upright. He could feel the dirt and the blood leaving his skin, the pain washing away, going down the drain. He realized that his hands had finally stopped shaking. And somehow he felt calm, as if nothing had ever happened. He was ok… at least for the time being. But then he felt his legs quivering, his knees buckling under his weight. He slid down to the floor, just sitting there, the water rinsing through his hair. He wasn't ok… far from ok… he just wasn't ready to admit that to himself. Probably never would be…

Ten minutes later, he stood up and turned off the shower. It had been great while it lasted, but he had to face it: the shower wasn't going to solve his problems.

When he got back out into the hallway, the school was already filling up with the usual early-birds. But no one seemed to find it odd that the guy who always turned up for class at the very last second, was already there. Although none of them would dare to ask him about that if they did, because, let's face it, these early birds were all nerds and losers… none of them would dare to walk up to him asking stupid questions.

Puck walked through the hallways to his locker. Not that he even knew what classes he had to attend this morning, but he could really use some of those energy-drinks he had stacked up in there. Caffeine was probably the only thing that would keep him awake. Maybe he had math today… a nice little nap in the nurses office sounded very tempting. Well… he could have that nap anyway. He just hoped that he didn't have Spanish. Walking into Mr. Schue in the hallway was one thing, sitting in his classroom? Something else entirely.

Although he had really expected for something to go wrong, he had gotten through the morning without raising any suspicions. The 'Walked-into-a-door'-excuse really worked and he was able to hide the badly bruised throat under the scarf. Even his sore voice fit the profile of having a cold. Somewhere along the way he remembered that he was supposed to see Ms. Pillsbury - well, Mrs. Pillsbury-Howell - about his "drug-problem"… talk about awkward conversations.

But it was over more quickly than he could've hoped. He just told her that it was a one time thing, that he wasn't dealing or anything. He had to listen to ten minutes of lecture about responsibility and that drugs were never a solution. He'd heard it all before, knew that he wasn't exactly the responsible type - his trip to juvie proofed that. But it wasn't like he had a problem here… at least not a drug-problem. Maybe he should talk to her about that other thing, the 'can't-go-home-or-I'll-be-dead'-thing. She seemed nice enough. But that would probably land him a trip to the principal's office, a long talk with all kinds of official people, and to be honest: who would even believe him? For all they knew he just got into another fight… and that would land him back in juvie for sure. No, he couldn't risk that. So he told her that he would never touch drugs ever again, held his head down in pretended shame like a refined teenager would, took the pamphlet she gave him and left her office. Mr. Schue should be satisfied and he had one less problem to deal with.

Puck was glad that there was no Glee practice today. He probably wouldn't have gotten through it without collapsing from all that singing and breathing and dancing and stuff. And he had gotten around being face to face with Mr. Schue the whole day…

... until he went back to his truck.

He opened the side door and threw his bag on the passenger's seat, when he heard the familiar voice behind him.

"So you got your truck back… probably was a long walk."

Puck turned around, smiling. "Yeah… but there's nothing like a nice long jog in the morning to get the blood running."

"What happened to your face?" Mr. Schue sounded concerned, and Puck had to fight the sudden urge to just tell him the truth.

"Walked into my bedroom door. Stupid, I know, but I didn't want to wake everyone by switching on the light… just didn't think about how dark it would be." He shrugged his shoulders, hoping that his teacher would swallow that one. "It's fine, really." He just wanted to get out of there… like, ten minutes ago.

"Looks like it hurts." He felt Mr. Schue's hand on his shoulder. "You're sure you're alright, Puck?"

"I said it's fine… just need to get some sleep. It's been a short night…" He turned away, attempting to get into his car.

"You can always come talk to me, if you should ever need to. Or Ms. Pillsbury if you're more comfortable with that."

"I don't need help!" He sighed. "Man, just… just get out of my hair." He got into the driver's seat and took a deep breath before turning his head to face his teacher, who looked taken aback by Puck's sudden outburst. "I'm sorry, Mr. Schue. I know you mean well. I just get real pissed when I don't get enough sleep…"

Mr. Schue's face softened. "It's ok, Puck. Just go home, get some sleep… and stay out of trouble!"

"Will do, Mr. Schue." Except for the going home part, since that would get him into trouble for sure. "And thanks again for driving me home last night…" The smile was back on his face, the smile he had been hiding behind for so long.

"No problem. See you at Glee tomorrow."

"Yeah… see you." He put the key into the ignition and started the car. He really needed to get out of here…


	5. Sleep

**Sleep**

He drove around town until it was getting dark. He didn't want to get busted again tonight, so instead of driving out of town, he parked his car in a back alley somewhere, but would regret that decision later that night…

Puck locked the doors from the inside… not that he was scared or anything - the Puckster never got scared - but he really didn't need some homeless guy snooping around in his truck while he was sleeping in it.

It wasn't even seven when he fell asleep on the back seat, covered by the blankets, wearing as many sweatshirts as he could possibly fit onto his body, but woke up about three hours later, once again bothered by a sudden noise outside his truck. He could hear two guys talking, laughing, shoving each other into the dumpsters.

_Just walk by this truck… no need to look inside… I'm not that interesting… just walk away!_

Puck heard himself pleading with them in his head. Really? Pleading? How low was that?

The voices came closer, and he could make out a few muffled words that sounded like they recognized his car. Yeah… he could hear them clearly now:

"Isn't that Puckerman's shabby excuse for a ride?"

"I don't know. Can't recognize enough what with all that rust…"

Laughter. They were laughing at his truck! Damn them…

"Could surely use some polishing. Maybe one of his pool-cleaning ladies would get a little dirty for this."

"Don't think he does that anymore… he's lost his touch!"

"Yeah, you're right. All that glee-club business made him soft. Even the Mohawk can't save him from that. He's already a main resident of loser-town!"

Puck could see them moving around his truck, looking through the windows.

_Don't move… what ever you do, just don't move…_

"Hey, Karofsky… I think there's someone in there…"

"Probably some homeless guy. Puckerman never locks his car."

Karofsky was right about that… well, about both. He was kinda homeless right now. But they didn't need to know that. He could hear one of them trying to open the front door and was glad that he'd locked it. He didn't need Karofsky and Azimio going through his stuff.

"Why is it even here? Doesn't he live like on the other end of town?"

"Don't know, don't care. But it's a great opportunity to get some payback for those Glee kids jumping us the other day…"

_Oh no…_

He suddenly heard glass breaking. They were busting his windows. What were they thinking? Didn't they know who he was? Right. Of course they knew… so much for his reputation.

There was only one thing left to stop this. Or at least, he hoped that it would stop this.

He sat up, stretching his back and legs, pretending to yawn. The attackers stopped, surprised by the sudden movement inside the car… well, what were they expecting? They'd seen someone sleep in the car... did they really think he wouldn't wake up from all that noise?

His eyes wandered towards the side window. The glass was covered with what looked like a big number of cracks, but there wasn't a hole in it. At least not yet.

Puck unlocked the door and got out of the car. Judging from the surprised looks on their faces, they really hadn't expected that.

"Can't a guy get a descent amount of sleep around here?", he asked casually.

"Dude… you're sleeping in your car?" Karofsky looked dumbfounded.

"What does it look like I was doing?"

"But… why?"

"I don't think that you would understand any reason I could give you. So, just walk away and let me get back to sleep." While the words came over his lips, he started to ask himself why his tongue always seemed to betray him by insulting people.

"I think he just said something about you being stupid, Dave…"

"He did, didn't he?" Karofsky moved back towards the car, getting closer to his prey. "You just never learn, do you, Puckerman?"

"Learn what? That you're dumber than Dumbo? Never had to learn that one! Knew that right from the start." He smiled at them, knowing very well that he had just signed up for some serious ass-kicking. Couldn't be worse than being at home, now, could it?

He hadn't accounted for that baseball bat in Azimio's hand, though. Probably should have seen that one coming…

His phone was ringing… why was his phone ringing?

Puck held up his hand to give the two bullies a sign that he had to take that. "Just a second…" He got the phone out of his pocket and walked past Karofsky. "I really need to take that! Just do with the truck whatever you want… have some fun, get that anger out of your system…"

Were they really buying that? Puck couldn't believe it… they really were buying that.

A hand suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Right… didn't think so. Just took them a little bit longer to realize what was going on. They needed their time with things like that.

He found himself being pressed against his truck, the two football players staring right at him.

"So… you guys come here often?", he asked, trying to divert the tension. "Ok…not in a talkative mood, are you? Right… didn't think so…"

He acted as fast as he could, using their obvious superiority in number to his advantage. They weren't expecting him to fight back. At least not at this moment. He shoved Karofsky away and grabbed for the baseball bat that Azimio was holding loosely in his right hand. Puck hadn't really expected it to work, but it did. He held the bat with both hands, glaring at them in anticipation of another attack.

"I really don't want to hurt you guys, although you really deserve it… especially you, Karofsky." He looked over at the football player, who seemed to be a little out of it right about now. "Don't get me wrong, I couldn't care less for your well-being, but we're still on the same team and I wouldn't want us to forfeit the game just because we don't have enough players on the field. We'll probably loose anyway, but that's besides the matter."

Azimio took a step towards him, but Puck quickly turned around to face him and changed his aim. "Well, ok… to tell you the truth… I don't care about the game! I just don't think you're worth another trip to Juvie. But you keep harassing Hummel and the other Glee kids and I just might change my mind." He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded, when it was all he could do to stop his body from shaking. He knew that, if they should decide to attack him, he wouldn't stand a chance, and he could think of a whole lot of things that he would rather do than spending the next few weeks in a hospital bed.

"Just get out of here and we call it a tie."

Karofsky and Azimio were still staring at him, but then Karofsky nodded. "Alright Puckerman. Just don't get too comfortable in that truck of yours. You might've gotten away this time, but you know as well as we do that you can't get away from us forever. We'll get you next time!" And then they walked away, leaving him behind.

It wasn't for another five minutes that the adrenaline left his body. His hand started shaking violently and the baseball bat slipped through his fingers, falling down, rolling away on the asphalt. His whole body was trembling and it took him a few more minutes to get over the thought that he had nearly gotten killed by the two most stupid guys in school.

Puck took a deep breath and got into the driver's seat of his car. He had to get out of here, like, right now! He was barely able to get the key into the ignition, wasn't even sure if he would be able to stir the car. Didn't matter… he had to. He was just glad that they hadn't started off their 'busting-up-the-windows-of-Puckerman's-truck'-game with the windshield.

He jerked up in surprise when his phone started ringing again. He had almost forgotten about that. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller-id. Finn.

Wait… Finn? Why was Finn calling him at this time of night?

"What's up?"

"Dude… where are you?" Finn's voice sounded slightly mad.

"Why? It's not like its any of_ your_ business…" He smiled, trying to picture Finn's face while he tried to figure out if Puck was implicating anything into those words.

"Just… I've been trying to call you like a hundred times. You were supposed to bring the guitar, remember?"

_Fuck… Rachel's party…_

"I know, but it's not like it's midnight already. I'll be there in time!" At least he'd now found a place to stay for the next few hours.

"Yeah… but the party is almost over. I know that we're not exactly on the best terms right now, but I really thought I could trust you with this. It was like the _only_ thing you had to do tonight…"

Great… so he got Finn pissed at him again.

"I'll be there in five. Just leave me some of that booze!"

"We don't have any."

Should have expected that much. A lame girly birthday party…

Then he remembered something else.

"Ehm… Finn? Little problem here…"

"What?" Was Finn actually snapping at him?

"I kinda left my guitar in the choir room after practice yesterday." Left on purpose, of course. Out of Danny's reach and the mean temperatures.

"So… you're telling me that you can't even do that right? That's just great Puckerman."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… don't call me that, dude! You sound like Karofsky… and that's really creepy."

"Just get over here, Puck. And don't bother congratulating her, she's already pissed at you."

"Then why even bother coming? It's not like anyone wants me there, anyway." Shouldn't have said that. That really sounded pathetic. "Just kiddin'. I'll be there!" Puck hung up.

He drove out of the alley and headed for the party, not sure what he was even supposed to do there. He didn't stay very long though. Got in, congratulated the birthday girl at midnight, hung out with Mike and Artie for half an hour, and left. Not that anyone even noticed him leaving. At least it was Saturday, and if it weren't for the extra Glee practice and the lack of a comfy bed, he could have just slept in.

Sleeping, of course, was becoming a necessity. He could barely hold his eyes open, let alone drive for much longer. So he got back to that alley, confident, that Karofsky and Azimio wouldn't come back there - why would they? - and half an hour later he was fast asleep, just woken up every now and then by the cold creeping through the cracks in the busted window.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, it seemed as if his whole body was aching. Of course the position he'd been sleeping in wasn't at all comfortable, and the bruised ribs weren't doing him any good, but he had hoped that sleeping would make it at least a little bit better. He had been wrong. If anything it had gotten worse.

He looked at his watch and realized that he really had to hurry if he didn't want to be late for rehearsal. Not that he actually cared right now, since it would probably mess with his cover up, but it didn't seem like he had any other choice. Not showing up would raise suspicion, and even if it didn't, it would piss the others off, big time. And although they probably didn't do anything more than ignore him lately, he really didn't need them to get angry at him.

When he started the car, he realized that the gas was running low, and unfortunately he didn't have any money to change that. Everything he had was stashed away in his room, and there was no way he could get there before the gas ran out. He would probably have to leave it at school after practice and walk home. At least he would be able to sleep in his own bed by the end of this day, if Danny was holding up his part of their understanding… if Puck showing up at the house yesterday morning hadn't mess it all up.

When he parked his car in the school parking lot, he just kept sitting in the driver's seat, staring at the front entrance of McKinley High. He knew that he was about to expose his secret. It wasn't like he hadn't faced this problem before, but most of those times they'd done slow songs or Berry had spread some great ideas, and most of the dance numbers were still manageable with bruised ribs… just not the fast ones. And after Thursday's rehearsal he knew, that they were about to practice a pretty fast one.

He took the scarf from the passenger's seat and wrapped it around his neck. The bruise had gotten worse, just like he'd thought… dark, nearly black… didn't look pretty. Then he remembered that he was supposed to have a cold. It could've gotten worse over night, couldn't it? Perfect! All he had to do now, was to convince Mr. Schue that he wasn't able to sing… maybe gotten a slight fever and wasn't able to dance either.

_Act sick, Puck… you can do it!_

He got out of his car, didn't even bother to take his bag with him. He'd be in and out in no time. He was glad that, against all odds, he'd gotten there earlier than he'd thought, so, hopefully, Mr. Schue was the only person already there. But when he got to the choir room, he saw that, not only Mr. Schuester, but Berry, too, was already there, and she would probably start a one-women-riot when she heard what he was about to say.

"Ohm… Mr. Schue?" Puck started coughing… and it sounded pretty convincing.

The teacher looked up from the sheet music lying on the piano, and turned around to face his student. "That doesn't sound so good? you're getting sick?"

"Yeah… think so." Another cough. "Don't think I can do much singing today."

"You look pale. Do you have a fever?" Mr. Schue walked up to him to get a better look. "Probably happened when you sat out in the cold the other night." He seemed a little bit worried.

"Yeah, probably." Puck shoved his hands into his pockets, tried to pretend like he was feeling guilty. "Sorry, Mr. Schue…"

The teacher just shook his head. "Nothing we can do about it. Better get home and into bed."

Puck took his hands out, starting to cough again. "Yeah… you're probably right." Damn, that hurt. He should've known that even pretend coughing wasn't good for his ribs.

He turned around, about to leave the room, when he heard the teacher's voice again. "Don't forget your guitar again!"

"Right…" He walked over to the other side of the room, Rachel Berry's vicious glare following his every move. He picked up the guitar case and left without saying another word. Instead of turning towards the main entrance, he went the other way. He really didn't need to run into the others on his way out, didn't want to explain it all over again. Instead, he took the side entrance and walked around the building to get back to the parking lot. He put the guitar on the back seat and drove off… he had already forgotten that he was low on gas.

But as it turned out, it was still enough to get him home. Who would've thought? All he needed now for his day to be almost perfect, was for Danny not to be home.

And it seemed like someone granted him that wish.

A few minutes later, he was standing in the living room door, guitar in one hand, his bag in the other. His mother was standing by the window. She had seen him coming. She turned around and looked at him, her eyes asking the question her mouth never would.

_You alright?_

He just nodded, and a hint of a smile spread on her lips.

Puck knew what that smile meant, and although it wasn't much, it really warmed him up inside. He put down his guitar case, threw his bag on the couch, and followed her into the kitchen.

They didn't talk. They never did. But they knew that everything was ok… for now.

His mother made him waffles, his favorite, and while he was eating silently, she ran a hand through his Mohawk, rested it on his shoulder for some time... and left. This was as close to a normal breakfast as he ever got. And he took it without having to think about it. He knew that it wasn't much, that this wasn't a "normal" family breakfast… but this was their way of showing each other that everything was fine.

Half an hour later he took his bag and guitar and got up to his room. Being allowed back in there meant the world to him right now. When he closed the door behind him, he let out a deep sigh of relief, before he turned the key and locked the door… just in case.

He walked over to his bed, lay down… and a minute later he was fast asleep.

But it wasn't a dreamless sleep. It was the kind, that was filled with nightmares he couldn't even remember when he woke up shivering and covered in sweat hours later.

Puck realized, that he was still wearing his clothes… that he was still lying above the covers.

He sat up, not sure what that dream had been about, just knowing that it must have been pretty bad to shake him up like this. He sighed, took off his clothes and crept back under the covers. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to go back to sleep, when the dreams would just wake him up again. But it wasn't like he had any other choice. He was exhausted. And before he could even think about resisting it, he'd fallen back asleep… and this time, he wasn't dreaming at all.


	6. Home sweet home

**Home sweet home**

He should've known. He should've known that this story wasn't going to end well for him. All the signs had pointed to this just being the calm before the storm. He really should've seen it…

But being back in his own room, his own bed, sleeping… it just had felt so good, so safe. At least, for the moment. Although, somewhere in his mind, he had already known that it wouldn't last. It never did.

When he'd woken up it had already been getting dark outside. He'd slept through most of the day, but it hadn't really mattered. He'd really needed that. Danny hadn't been home yet, and Puck had taken the opportunity to take a shower - this time having a clean towel. He had searched the cabinet for some pain killers, but, unfortunately, hadn't found any. And after that, he'd locked himself in his room again. Not that he had anything to fear from his mother or sister, but he couldn't be too careful. Danny would be back soon, and Puck still didn't know whether he was even allowed back in the house. Just because his mom had made him waffles, didn't mean that he wouldn't have Danny's fist for dessert.

In the end, it really wasn't a surprise, when he heard his mother's boyfriend banging at his door. Didn't make him feel any better, though.

He was sitting on his bed, strumming a few chords on his guitar, when the sudden noise made him jerk. For a moment, he thought about ignoring it, but really? Who can ignore a guy about to break down your door? Yeah… didn't think so.

So he lay down his guitar and stared at the door. He thought that he could actually _see_ it shuddering with each bang. A strange picture of the wood splintering, the door falling into his room, suddenly crossed his mind. He definitely had seen too many action movies…

"Open the door!", the voice roared. But Puck wasn't about to follow that request. He might not be the brightest guy, but even he knew that _that_ would be a stupid idea.

"Open the door, boy, or I'll break it down!"

"Yeah, you try that…", he mumbled under his breath, not yet daring to let Danny know that he was listening.

"I'm serious! Don't test me on that!" Danny was still hammering his fist against Puck's door.

"Well… don't wait for me! Get it over with." This time he made sure that Danny could hear him. "Just don't think that I'll pay for that!" He knew that he couldn't win this fight, that he probably never would, but at least he could score a few hits with his mouth, even if it meant that the other one would get more angry. It would make him feel better when all this was over, knowing that he hadn't shown fear. He would never give Danny that satisfaction.

"OPEN THE DOOR… NOW!"

Puck actually flinched at that. He hadn't expected the guy to raise his voice just yet. Well… it didn't matter, Puck wouldn't follow that order if Danny had screamed it into his ears.

The noise suddenly stopped… at least for now. But Puck had a vague feeling, that this wasn't over yet. Danny would never give up this easily.

Turned out that he was right.

A few minutes later, the hammering started again. But the noise was different. It didn't sound like a hand anymore. A metal door would be a great thing right about now. This had happened before, though. But not as often as one might think. Puck had always opened the door at some point, just because he didn't want to risk loosing his door for good, when most of the time, it was the last thing keeping him from getting his ass kicked. Danny would yell at him, he would yell back, and after all that yelling he would be left alone. Most of the time. Just not every time. Definitely not every time.

But tonight was different. Puck knew, that yelling wasn't all he was going to get tonight. At least he knew now, that he wasn't welcomed back, yet. Not by Danny anyway.

It didn't take long for the door to finally give in to the constant beating. Puck didn't know what to do. Without thinking about it, he picked up the baseball bat leaning against the wall - he barely ever used it - and when his grip tightened around the handle, he had a sudden flashback of his encounter with Karofsky and Azimio last night. That one had ended better than he'd hoped. Maybe this one would, too.

The door swung into his room, the lock ripped out of the frame, a few wooden splinters falling to the floor. Danny just stood there, the hammer still in his hand, and Puck realized, that his own hands were starting to get sweaty, making it harder to hold the bat in his hands. But he was determined not to give in to that man this time...

_Maybe this time, I'll win…_

A confusing image of April Rhodes flashed before his eyes, standing in the choir room, singing that song. If only he could be there right now… or somewhere else for that matter. Anywhere but here!

"Put that thing down!" Danny hadn't raised his voice, but the glare that came with his words had more meaning than a loud voice ever could.

Puck looked around in his room. There was just no way he was getting out of this one. His only way of escape was the window, and really? Jumping out of the second floor window? Not such a bright idea. Probably break a lot of bones, maybe even his neck… not to mention all those cuts from the glass. Not that he hadn't made that experience before - the glass pane of a coffee table can cut you up pretty good - but that had happened during the summer and the scars had alreaded started to fade. Except for the one on his lower back, bu he always made sure that nobody ever saw that.

So… this stand-off thing right here? Not the best situation he'd ever been in. Puck could think of a lot of things he would rather do right now. Even attending math for the first time in years. Nah… stand-offs just weren't his thing. At least not like this. If he were to sit in the audience, though… guess this could actually be pretty exciting: Hammer vs. Baseball bat. He just didn't like the idea that he had to be a player in this fight.

They were still standing a few yards apart, staring, both waiting for the other one to make the first move.

There was a sudden, rattling noise when Danny let the hammer fall to the ground. "Don't need that!", he said, probably trying to intimidate Puck. But Puck wasn't about to let go of the only weapon he had to defend himself.

"And you should really put that thing down. It won't do you any good, I can assure you of that."

"Yeah… right. Because I'll just give it up because you tell me to. No way, mister… I'll keep this one." He smirked. He actually felt confident enough to smirk just now.

"Wipe that smile off your face. It doesn't suit you!" Danny took a step into the room, crossing the threshold that had been the fine line neither of them had dared to cross until now.

Puck backed off a few steps, trying to hold the distance, but he knew that there just wasn't enough room for him to keep it that way. He would have his back against the wall…

A rope would've been great. A good way to get out through the window. He should've thought about that earlier, like, months ago. It would have been the perfect way of escape whenever things got too messy around here, and a good way to sneak back in. Well, too late for that - but it was a good idea for the future. If Danny would let him _have_ a future, that is.

Puck backed up a few more steps, never letting Danny out of his sight. He passed his bed, knew, that he was about to hit a dead end… and then Danny grabbed the guitar that was still lying on the covers. For some unknown reason, that made Puck stop in his tracks. The guy was touching the one thing in this entire room that actually meant something to him…

"Don't…" The word came over his lips before he could even think about it. He hadn't meant to say it, knew, that it was exactly the reaction Danny had been hoping to get.

"So… still got time to play, have you?" Danny held the instrument in his hands, staring at it, disgust written all over his face. "You really should stop that. The whole Glee club thing just got you into trouble! Probably sent you over the edge and made you steal that ATM…"

Wrong. If anything, Glee club had made him a better person… and had messed up his reputation, but that wasn't an issue right now.

"And besides… it's really just a big waste of time!" And with that, Danny slammed the guitar against the wall.

Puck had to watch as his most valued possession was smashed to pieces. He couldn't move, as if time was standing still. He just stared at the splinters on the floor, the remainder of the guitar's neck clutched in Danny's hand, a few wooden pieces still dangling from the strings.

He hadn't even noticed that he had dropped the bat. It didn't matter anymore. It was over. Puck had lost.

Without thinking, without even knowing what he was doing, he ran out the door. Danny didn't even have time to react.

Puck ran down the stairs… this was just too much. He could handle the pain,but this hurt more than any beating ever could.

He stormed through the front door, ran into the night with nowhere to go. It didn't matter, he just wanted to get as far away from that house as possible. He ran as far as his legs would take him, ran as if the devil himself was chasing him… and then he stopped. Just... stopped.

Puck was standing on someone's front lawn, the cold, damp grass under his bare feet. All of a sudden, his legs started quivering, gave out under his weight, and he slumped to the ground, his whole body shaking from both exhaustion and shock. His fingers dug into the ground as if they were trying to hold on to something, to some part of reality. The cold night air crept over his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He just sat there for what seemed like hours. He didn't even feel the cold. He didn't feel anything anymore… just this all consuming emptiness inside. He was stranded in the middle of nowhere, with nothing left but his clothes. Never once in his life had he felt this helpless…

Puck didn't notice the lamp going on behind him, bathing the lawn in a soft glow, casting pale shadows on the grass. He didn't hear the footsteps coming closer, didn't hear the voice calling his name. But when a hand gently touched his shoulder, the world suddenly started to move again.

He jerked his head around, half expecting to look right into Danny's angry face… but the person looking down at him wasn't angry, not even a little bit. Just confused, and maybe a little bit worried.

"Finn?" Puck wasn't sure if that word ever left his lips. He wasn't even sure if his former best friend was really standing in front of him or if it was just a dream. He turned his head away again. He just couldn't stand the look in Finn's eyes.

"Dude… what the hell are you doing, sitting out here in the cold?"

Puck didn't answer, he just kept staring into the night. He could feel Finn sitting down beside him, wished that he would just leave. He didn't want to talk about this, didn't want his former buddy to see him like this.

"Wanna stay the night?" It was a simple enough question, and he could hear in Finn's voice that he meant it. Finn Hudson might be naïve as hell, but he had his moments… and this was one of them.

"Yeah… guess so."

Finn got off the ground and helped Puck get up. Not that he had needed any help, of course - and they would both deny it if anyone ever asked.

When they walked up to the front stairs, Puck suddenly realized that he'd collapsed right in front of the Hudson/Hummel residence. He hadn't intended that. Maybe his feet had led him here without him knowing about it.

Finn silently closed the door behind them and led the way to his room. Strangely enough, Puck had never been inside this house since Finn and his mother had moved here.

"How did you even know I was out there?", Puck asked when they arrived downstairs.

"Couldn't sleep. Went to the kitchen to get something to eat when I saw someone sitting on the lawn. That Mohawk is kinda hard to miss…"

"Yeah…" Puck ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little bit out of place.

"You can have the bed, probably need it more than I do.", Finn said and turned towards the small couch that was in no way long enough to offer enough space for the tall teenager.

"Don't really feel like sleeping… just need to warm up a little bit." Puck walked over to Finn's bed and sat down.

"Probably should change that shirt, looks like you rolled through the mud."

Puck looked down at his clothes. Finn was right, that didn't look very good. And the shirt seemed to be wet, too. Had it been raining outside? For all he knew, it could've, but then his hair and skin would be dripping, too. No… definitely no rain outside.

"Take this one… should be clean enough." Finn picked up a shirt from the floor and threw it at his friend.

"Does he always sleep that tight?", Puck asked, looking over at Kurt, still sleeping despite the light and the talking.

"Yeah, kinda… the guy sleeps through everything."

"Not everything, Finn…", came Kurt's muffled voice from under the covers. "At least, not this.", he added when he pulled back the covers and sat up.

"What's up, Hummel?" Despite everything that had happened tonight, the smile was back on his face… well, at least a hint of it.

"You look dreadful, Puckerman.", Kurt said, after taking Puck's appearance into consideration.

"Well, thank you… I really needed to hear that. And don't mind the sarcasm…"

"Wow… and there I thought you didn't even know what that means." The glare he earned for those words prevented Kurt from saying anything else.

The silence following this was far from being comfortable, but Puck didn't really care. He was just glad that he was finally in a warm place. It wasn't until he tried to take off his shirt, that he realized, that they were both staring at him. And not the good kind of staring. The shocked and worried kind of staring.

"What?" He didn't care that he was snapping at them. He didn't like being stared at, at least not like this.

"Dude… your neck…"

_Uh oh…_

"It looks awful…"

He'd totally forgotten about that one. Had taken them long enough to notice, though.

"It's nothing…" He knew when he said it, that they wouldn't believe him. And he was right. Next thing he knew, they had both gotten up and walked over to Finn's bed, trying to get a better look.

"Doesn't look like nothing. More like some guy tried to strangle you to death…"

"Finn is right. That look really bad, Noah."

Puck held up his arms to prevent them from getting any closer. "First off: since when do you call me Noah?… Forget that question. Don't call me that! No one ever calls me that!" He could feel his voice getting louder with every word, but couldn't explain the sudden anger rising up inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to get it back under control… he really didn't need that right now.

"Secondly: no one tried to kill me!" He shot a glance at Finn, who seemed to get a little bit smaller at those words.

"Just… get back to sleep and forget that I'm even here. I will be gone before you wake up, so you won't have to bother looking at me anymore."

Kurt visibly flinched at those words and was already sitting back down on his own bed. But Finn was still standing next to him.

"Puck… you're not bothering anyone. Why would you even say something like that?"

Puck looked up, his face saying: do I really need to lay that one out for you?

"Sure, we might not be, like, best buddies or something anymore, like before all that baby stuff… but that doesn't mean I don't care what happens to you. You're still my friend…"

"Dude, that's so g-…" Puck could see Kurt's head shooting up. "- great. Just great. Thanks…"

That was a close one… although Kurt probably knew which word had almost slipped out. They looked at each other for a second, but judging from the expression on Kurt's face, he wasn't going to be mad right know.

"But really, I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"You're in denial, Puckerman.", Kurt replied bluntly.

"Am not…" It wasn't much of a defense, but he really didn't want to fight right now.

"Have you even looked at yourself?"

No, he hadn't, not since he'd taken that shower - which seemed like days ago, although it had only been a few hours. It couldn't have gotten any worse, though. Danny hadn't gotten to him this time… well, at least not physically.

"Dude, just get that shirt off… it's soaking!"

"Right… almost forgot about that.", Puck said and finally took off his shirt. Finn's sudden gasp and Kurt's sharp intake of breath suddenly reminded him of something else he had totally forgotten about. The cold had really done a number on his brain…

"Oh my…" Kurt couldn't even get any more words out.

"Oh, that… you remember the door I told you guys about on Friday? The one I ran into a few nights ago? Turns out that it really doesn't like me." That wasn't going to work, and he knew it.

"I wasn't really listening to you back then, but, judging from your face, I'd say that the door probably was your attempt of a subterfuge.", Kurt said matter-of-factly. "And since that really painful looking bruise on your ribs is on the left side while the split lip and bruised cheek are on the right, I'd say that a door had nothing to do with either one of them."

"Right… what he said!" Finn might not have understood everything that Kurt had just said, but he was pretty sure that it meant that Puck was lying.

"You're not going to drop this, are you?" Puck was feeling really tired right about now. He didn't want to talk about it, he just wanted to lie down, hide under those blankets and forget that this night ever happened.

But they were both shaking their heads, letting him know that they weren't going to let him get away this easily.

"Ok… you got me." Puck raised his hands in defeat.

"So, you're gonna tell us what happened?"

"I got into a fight… so what?" He stood up from the bed, not wanting them to corner him again.

"A fight?"

"Yeah, Finn, a fight. A good old man-to-man fist fight, if you remember what that is…" He tried to sound annoyed, when in reality, it was all he could do to prevent himself from having a breakdown right there and then. "And don't act like I haven't been in those before…", he added swiftly.

"I know… but -"

"But what? I'm a badass… I don't let people talk shit at me, you know that." He'd taken a few steps away from the bed, but his legs didn't seem to like the idea of moving around. This whole night had worn him down a lot more than he'd thought.

"Yeah, but this could really get you into trouble…"

"You mean besides my battered body?"

"Yes, Puckerman, besides that. This fight could sent you back to juvenile hall. And although I really despise you most of the time, I don't think that you deserve to go back there."

"Thanks, Hummel, really means a lot coming from you…" And he meant that. "But you don't have to worry about that. It wasn't a real fight. It was more like having some fun. I won't get into trouble for that one."

This was really getting hard. He just hoped that they they didn't notice his legs quivering. He needed to sit down... like, right now!

"Still doesn't explain why you were sitting on our lawn in the middle of the night, nearly freezing to death."

Puck looked over to Finn, making sure that it had really been him saying those words.

"Don't look at me like that. I know you all think I'm kinda stupid, and maybe I am sometimes -" Kurt and Puck just looked at each other: Somertimes? "- but I'm not _that_ stupid. I know that there's something else you're not telling us!"

His head hurt... he couldn't concentrate, hadn't even heard the last part.

"Finn is right, Puck. Your behavior tonight is a little bit too irrational, even for you."

Puck just stared at the floor, trying to fight the sudden dizziness. His head _really_ hurt...

"Can we do this tomorrow? I just -… I don't think I can do this any longer…"

Why was his vision getting all blurry?

"Dude... you're okay?" Finn's voice seemed far away... somewhere out of reach...

This can't be good... definitely... not... good...


	7. Hiding in the dark

**Hiding in the dark**

_Ouch…_

He opened his eyes... well, at least he tried. But it didn't really seem to work. At least he wasn't seeing right, was he? And if he was, the world sure had gotten out of focus, because… since when hat it become all blotchy and blurry? He blinked, trying to set it right again. Still, no change. The ceiling had a strange pattern, though.

Wait… the ceiling?

"Is he okay?"

A voice… somewhere…

"I don't know…"

This is odd. Almost sounded worried. Nah, no one worries about him, right?

"Wait, I think he's waking up."

It sounded relieved, somehow, and... was that a face floating in the air?

"Puck, you're alright?"

Puck?

Oh, right… him.

"I'm not sure if he's really back yet."

Stating the obvious.

"Puck, can you hear me?"

Okay… those questions? Not really helping with the headache.

"Wha- what happened?" Had he just said that? He was confused. This didn't make any sense.

"I don't know. One minute you're talking, next thing, you're getting all pale and stuff… Really freaked us out!" The floating face seemed a little pale, too, but Puck couldn't be too sure about that, his vision was still a bit fuzzy. Hadn't he just been standing somewhere? How had he gotten to the floor?

"You okay?"

Enough with the questions, already!

"Yeah… I think so." He wanted to sit up, just so he wouldn't have to stare at the ceiling anymore. But a sharp pain in his head stopped him in his tracks and a strange noise escaped his mouth.

"I think you should lie down for another minute."

Right. Good idea. Floor isn't that comfortable, though.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to fight the nausea building up in his stomach. This really sucked…

"So… I just… ehm…" He didn't want to say the words. That would be like admitting defeat, and he really wanted to avoid that, although the fact that he was _still_ lying on the floor didn't really help with that.

"Yeah…" Finn must've noticed how uncomfortable he felt, and Puck was thankful for that.

"How long?" It was an interesting question. For all he knew, it could've been hours. But then he probably wouldn't still be lying on the floor in the Hudson/Hummel house, more like a hospital bed or something.

"Don't really know. I mean…" Finn scratched his head. "You stood there and kinda phased out for a minute before you… ehm… you know? I caught you, though, before you hit the ground."

Okay… so much for avoiding embarrassment. Not that he could've prevented it, but still.

"And why am I on the floor again?", he asked, this time completing the task of finally sitting back up. Made him feel slightly dizzy, though, but the pain in his head was getting bearable.

"We… I… kinda… I mean, you're like, heavy, and we couldn't get you to the bed, so… at least you didn't hit your head or something." This was really getting awkward. "We didn't really know what to do. I mean, you looked pretty bad, so…"

_Oh no…_

"You didn't call anyone, did you?" Puck suddenly was wide awake. He didn't need anyone else to ask any questions tonight, it had been hard enough to lie to Finn and Kurt for the past hour.

"No, you woke up before we could."

Puck let out a deep sigh. At least he'd dodged _that_ bullet.

"Still, I mean… we were worried!", Finn tried to explain.

"Dude, seriously… stop acting like I'm a five year old girl! So I passed out, big deal."

There, he said it.

"More like, fainted..."

"Not funny, Hummel. Not. Funny." The Puckster doesn't faint. Knocked unconscious? Yeah… a couple of times. Passing out? Hard to admit, but it can happen. Fainting? No way! Although… probably was the same thing as passing out, but in a really girly kind of way, so, no… guys like him don't faint, period.

"Just help me get off the floor, Finn!", he said, his voice slightly annoyed.

"I really don't think that's a good idea.", Finn replied, obviously not wanting for him to pass out again.

"Okay. But seriously, stop doing that!"

"Do what?"

"Act like I'm gonna break or something.", Puck answered, closing his eyes, trying to fight another wave of dizziness. A few minutes passed and Puck could hear them shuffling around the room, before Finn's voice suddenly appeared next to him: "You should drink something.", he said, handing him a bottle of water. Puck hadn't even realized how thirsty he was until he took the first sip. It didn't taste very good, though. Probably had lain around for weeks somewhere under Finn's bed. Didn't matter. He was still thirsty.

"So… can I get up now?", he asked, his voice sounding so overly annoyed that it actually made the others laugh… well, at least a little bit. But Finn complied and held out a hand, helping him off the ground. His legs still felt a little weird, but the dizziness seemed gone, for now. Slowly, he walked the few steps back to Finn's bed, taking a short glance at Kurt, who still seemed kind of amused about something.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Hummel…"

Wrong words, Puck… wrong words.

"_Wipe that smile off your face. It doesn't suit you!"_

The sudden flashback nearly took him off his feet again, and Danny's voice still echoed through his head when he reached the bed and sat down. He stared at the floor as the images flashed before his eyes… the door, the baseball bat… the guitar.

"Dude… what the hell was that?" Finn's voice snapped him back into reality.

"Nothing." He swallowed hard as the memories tried to lure him away again.

"Your hands are shaking…" Kurt suddenly stood next to him.

Puck looked up, somewhat confused, looked down again, staring at his hands. They were shaking violently and no matter how hard he tried, how desperately he wanted to, he just couldn't make them stop.

"Probably wasn't the best idea to get back up yet…", he said weakly, hoping that it would be a good enough explanation for them. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to calm down. This whole night was a disaster. And not just the part where Danny had cornered him in his room. Being here right now didn't seem any better. He was still trapped. Just in a different way.

"Yeah… probably was too soon."

At least they believed him. He really didn't need another round of that whole asking-stupid-questions thing they had been doing all night.

"So… how'd you end up here?", Finn asked a few minutes later.

_Still_ not done yet? Great…

"Didn't we agree to do that tomorrow, or something?" Puck sat back up, trying to ignore the way they looked at him. A least his hands weren't shaking anymore…

"We didn't really agree on that. You kinda took the easy way out."

"You know me. I always take the easy way out." A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "But, to answer your question, I'm not entirely sure, _how_…"

"What do you mean?" Finn looked a little bit confused. "You must've gotten here _somehow._"

"Beats me. I remember going to bed, next thing I know you're sittin' next to me on your front lawn." Okay, if this worked, it would be some kind of new record on the getting-out-of-jail-free-card-scale, because this was probably the dumbest excuse he had ever used - except for the door, maybe, but that one had worked out just fine until he had shown up on their doorstep.

"You mean like sleepwalkin' or something?"

"I don't know…" This wasn't working, was it? "I think it happened before. Woke up a number of times at strange places and couldn't remember how I got there…"

"I don't think that those count as sleepwalking. It sounds more like you having too much to drink."

Puck had already known that it would be a lot harder to convince Kurt than Finn, he just had no idea what to do about it. Of course, there was always the possibility of telling the truth. But that wasn't going to happen!

"Which raises an interesting question: Have you been drinking?"

Now _there_ was an opportunity!

"No?", he said, trying to sound as if he was lying.

"You're unbelievable, Puckerman! And there I wasted an hour of my time being concerned about you, which in itself is really surprising, since I never thought that I would actually care. But I should have seen this coming! You just never change, do you?"

Those words hurt a lot more than Kurt would ever know, but Puck wasn't going to show it. He just smiled his trademark-smile, once again hiding away the truth. "Get over yourself, Hummel… I'm a badass, what did you expect?"

"You really got drunk?" Finn asked, just to make sure that he got it all right.

"Yeah… well, not drunk, just a little-"

But Kurt cut him off. "You were sitting outside, on our lawn, barefoot, short-sleeves, no jacket, in the middle of winter!"

"Okay…", Puck held up his hands in defense. "So I got _really_ drunk. Big deal."

"Is there _anything_ that would be a big deal for you, Puckerman?"

_You have no idea…_

"Not really…", he said, his voice sounding as if there was nothing he had to worry about. "I mean, it's not like I'm still filled up or something. What time is it anyway?"

"Around 3 am…", Finn answered, looking at his watch.

"Right. So, I got my last drink 'round nine… that's like over five hours…"

"Six.", Kurt remarked.

"It's still over five hours!", Puck said defensively. "Never mind. However, I remember taking all those breath mints… you know, so my mom wouldn't find out, and after that, I'm suddenly sitting outside in the cold. I'm just not really sure how I got there."

They didn't answer, just kept staring at him, as if they were still waiting for something else.

"It happens. So… are we done now?" Puck realized that he was still shirtless… that he had been for quite some time. He grabbed for the shirt Finn had given him earlier, not sure if he even wanted to know how long it had been lying on the floor before Finn had picked it up.

Kurt just sighed and took something out of the nightstand. "Put that on those bruises. It'll help."

Puck took the little jar Kurt was holding out, not entirely sure what was going on.

"Constantly being pushed into a locker does leave its marks… well, never _that_ bad, but still.", he said, pointing at the bruise on Puck's neck.

"Thanks…" This was really weird. Had they not just started to get mad at him? Had he missed something?

"And you should really change those jeans. You're getting mud all over the bed."

Now _that_ sounded more like it.

"I don't think that either of you has a pair that would fit me.", he said matter-of-factly. "Finn is just… tall, like… really tall. And you are _way_ too skinny…"

"Guess I can still find something…", Finn said as he walked over to the closet and started pulling out all kinds of clothes, throwing them to the floor.

"Finn! Do you always have to leave such a mess?"

"Sorry, Kurt…" Finn was still rummaging through his clothes. "Got them…"

Puck caught the pants and looked at them for a moment. "Your sweats, dude? Really?"

"Better than Kurt's designer stuff.", Finn answered, ignoring the slightly offended look on Kurt's face. "And you should take this one, too." He added and threw another shirt. "The other one probably isn't as clean as I think it is."

"Yeah… you're probably right.", Puck said, getting up from the bed. "You guys got a bathroom down here?"

"Sure, just… don't pass out again."

"I'll try not to." Puck took the change of clothes and the small jar Kurt had given him, and left the room.

He knew that they would probably start talking about him as soon as he'd entered the bathroom, even heard their muffled voices after he'd closed the door, but he really couldn't care less. Preventing himself from passing out again was the bigger problem right now. The few meters from the bed to the bathroom had almost been too much. He turned on the water and splashed his face, trying to fight the dizziness. He just hoped that this night would be over soon, he really needed to get some rest.

He looked down at his jeans. Sitting in the dirt hadn't been the best idea, and although he must've been inside for at least an hour, it still hadn't dried off. His feet looked pretty dirty, too. He'd probably left quite a number of footprints all over the house. Mrs. Hudson would definitely not be thrilled. But he couldn't change that now, could he?

He cleaned himself off as best as he could without taking a shower, or even moving around more than he had to. Most of the dirt ended up on the towel, but at least he wouldn't ruin Finn's sheets. He changed into the sweats, which were way to long, but at least they were dry.

After that he just stood there, in front of the mirror, staring at the bruises Danny had left him with. At least they would disappear someday…

He turned around until his right side was facing the mirror. Most of the scars had already faded, and you wouldn't even notice them, if you didn't know that they were there. But _he_ knew… he would _always_ know.

His fingers moved over the scars as the memories slowly crept back to the surface.

The doctors had said, that he'd been very lucky. Most of the cuts had been shallow and would heal fast. The one on his lower back, though… that had taken quite a while.

He turned around a little bit more, staring at the one thing that would always remind him of the things Danny had done to him, the one thing that would never let him forget.

He was just glad that neither Finn nor Kurt had seen it, though they had definitely had enough time tonight if they would've cared to look close enough. They probably just didn't want to see it. No one ever did.

Puck sighed and turned back around before he opened the little jar Kurt had given him. It contained some kind of sticky substance, and it smelled really weird, but not exactly bad. He got closer to the mirror and started with the bruise on his neck. Touching it already hurt more than he would've thought, trying to apply that stuff on it? Even worse. He winced every time his fingers touched an especially tender spot, but finished eventually. It didn't look any better, though, he could still see the shape of Danny's fingers on his skin… could still feel them taking away the air.

It had been a really bad week.

He took another look at his face and decided that the bruise on his cheek didn't need any taking care of, but his ribs definitely did. And that was going to hurt for sure.

Puck took a deep breath and started again. He just hoped that this stuff was worth the pain.

He waited a few minutes before he put on the shirt, not wanting for it to stick to his skin, but knowing, that he couldn't give them another chance to spot the scar on his back. He picked the dirty towel and his jeans off the ground, before he took a deep breath, put on another smile, and opened the door. When he got back to the room, both Finn and Kurt fell silent immediately.

"Talking about me?", he asked, feeling a lot better than he had half an hour ago when he had still been lying on the floor.

"Ehm… no?"

_Busted!_

"Dude… you really need to work on your lying skills.", Puck said with a smile on his face.

"Who says I was lying?" Finn asked, trying to look offended. But he couldn't even do that right.

"I do." Kurt said, trying to prevent them from going on about this for the remainder of the night. "We were talking about you."

"What about?" He walked over to the bed, threw the towel and jeans on the floor with his shirt, and sat back down, ignoring the scowling look on Kurt's face. He didn't really care what they had been talking about. As long as they had swallowed his lie about being drunk, everything was fine.

"Just… ehm… Have you seen a doctor about your ribs? Because, I mean… if something's broken…"

"Nothing's broken, Finn. Believe me, I would know."

"Still… can't be very healthy." Finn said quietly, not wanting to start a fight about this.

_So, we're back to where you pretend to care, are we? _

"Yeah… well, it isn't, but it happened and there's no point in crying over spilled beans…"

"Milk.", Kurt said, not looking up.

"Whatever…"

"You should still see the doc about it. I mean, can you even play football? And what about glee? You didn't show up on Saturday…", Finn tried once again.

"Ah, now I see… you're worried that I might ruin our next show." He should've known.

"That's not what I meant. Just… go and see a doc, make sure you're okay."

"I'll think about it." Or won't. "Now, can we please just try and get some sleep? I'm getting real tired, and this whole talking back and forth… it's kinda exhausting."

"Yeah… you're probably right…"

So they finally let him off the hook and got back to bed. Well, at least Kurt did, while Finn tried to find a way to fit his body on the couch, until Puck couldn't watch it any longer and offered to switch places. Half an hour later, Finn's snoring filled the room, and Kurt, too, had fallen back asleep. But Puck couldn't sleep, he just stared at the ceiling, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. He just couldn't understand why this was getting so hard. It wasn't as if this had been the first time that he had to lie to their faces… he had done it before… a lot.

After all, it had been over two years. Two very lonely years.

Of course, juvie had made this a lot harder, since getting into a fight wasn't the best explanation if you don't want everyone telling you that it could get you into serious trouble, and coming up with new excuses wasn't all that easy. And aside from that, the situation at home hadn't gotten any better since he'd gotten out. On the contrary. It had gotten a lot worse.

And Puck just didn't know if he could do this any longer…


	8. Heaven and Hell

**Heaven and Hell**

The next morning started with an awkward silence, and Puck felt slightly uncomfortable. He could feel them staring at him. He tried to ignore it, but after a while it was getting really unnerving, and he was glad when they both went upstairs. At least their behavior supported his decision _not_ to tell them the truth. If his tall tales already freaked them out like this… better not even think about what they would do if they ever found out what was really going on.

He had thought about leaving after they both had fallen back asleep, had thought about just getting off the couch and closing the door behind him. But where could he have gone? There was just nowhere left to go.

"Wanna get breakfast?" Finn appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.

"Nah… think I'll just get my stuff and go home." Home. That just sounded so wrong.

"My mom's making waffles… you like waffles, don't you?" Finn just ignored Puck's reply.

"Yeah… guess so," His stomach was growling as he tried to remember the last time he'd had something to eat.

"Then… what you're waiting for?"

Yeah… what was he waiting for? There was nothing wrong with having a bite to eat. But what about Finn's mom? He hadn't seen her in a while… not since baby-gate. And even if she didn't throw him out, she would probably ask a few questions he wasn't ready to answer. And in the unlikely case that none of that would happen… well, that still left Kurt's dad and there was just no way that Mr. Hummel would let his son's former nemesis sit in his kitchen.

"I don't think that either of your parents would want me to be there.", Puck said, trying not to sound too overdramatic.

"I already told my mom that you're here, and she seemed alright with it… haven't seen Burt though…"

"I'll think about it." Hadn't he said the same thing about going to the doctor? Talk about déjà vu...

"Come on… I mean, you must be starving. And wasn't there something about breakfast being important after drinking or something?" Finn wasn't going to let him get away that easily, was he?

"Alright, I'm coming…" That was his stomach talking. Puck wouldn't have given in this soon. Then he remembered that his neck would probably raise a lot of even more uncomfortable questions at the breakfast table. Not that his face wouldn't, but the neck was a lot harder to explain. "Ehm.. Finn? You got a scarf or something lying around here somewhere?"

"Don't know. There might be…" Finn came down the stairs and started throwing clothes out of his closet again. "Nope… not here. But I think there's one upstairs on the coat rack." Finn didn't even wait for an answer before he went upstairs to get the scarf. Puck sighed and looked at the mess Finn had left on the floor… Hummel was gonna be pissed.

A minute later, a scarf flew down the stairs. "Just hurry up… breakfast's almost ready."

"Be right up…"

The smell filling the house when he got up the stairs, was just delicious, and the growling in his stomach was getting even louder. When he got to the kitchen, Finn's mother was just setting down the food on the table. She looked up and smiled. "Now there's a haircut I haven't seen in a while…"

"Morning… " As he had expected, this was awkward. Really awkward. He didn't even know how _much_ Finn had told her about baby-gate. Probably everything. So, why was she smiling at him? But at least, no one was yelling or throwing stuff at him.

He sat down at the table, not sure what to say or do. This just felt really weird. Puck could see the worried look on Mrs. Hudson's face when she looked at him again, but she didn't ask what had happened to him. Finn must've told her. If not the "truth", at least something that would explain the bruise and the split lip. But she started smiling again, when she handed him a cup of coffee, before she sat down herself. The only one not around yet, was Kurt's dad… and Puck really hoped that he just wouldn't show up for whatever reason.

But he wasn't that lucky. Not that he'd expected to be.

Burt Hummel stopped on the threshold, staring at the Mohawk, an unreadable expression on his face. "What's he doin' here?", he asked, looking over at his son.

"He got stranded on our front lawn last night." Kurt said swiftly, trying not to look at either Puck or his father.

"So?"

"Well… we kinda took him in. Couldn't just let him sit out there, could we? It was freakin' cold last night." Finn tried to explain.

"I get that… and you're right, can't let him freeze to death. But what's he doin' at my kitchen table?"

Puck didn't like the way they were talking about him as if he wasn't there. This was really getting uncomfortable, and he knew when it was his time to leave. "I guess I'll better go. Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Hudson…"

"No, Puck… you stay here and get something to eat." Finn's mom said kindly, not even deigning to look at Burt, making Puck wonder what exactly Finn had told her about last night.

"Right…" Burt didn't look too happy, but obviously didn't want to start a fight over this. But when he went over to the table his eyes met with Puck's, practically ordering him to read his expression: _You try anything…_

_I'm dead… got it._

Didn't matter that he wouldn't even think about trying anything… not anymore.

He got back to his coffee, and after a while it seemed like they had forgotten that he was even there. They were talking about their plans for the day, the next week, laughing, smiling… Puck didn't mind that he was being left out, he wasn't a part of this family - or any _real_ family for that matter - but he had known _that_ for a long time, even before Danny had shown up.

Finn and Puck had been friends long before high school, and the first time they had had a sleepover, Puck had been really shocked to find Finn's mom standing in the kitchen making breakfast the next morning… she had been smiling at him, the way she had done today, and had asked him if he'd rather have hot chocolate or juice… and since that morning he had been jealous. Jealous of Finn, for having a mom who made him breakfast every morning, a mom who wanted to know about his day in school, a mom who hugged him when he was feeling bad… a mom who actually cared.

And now, sitting at this table, watching them all happy and smiling, made him realize that he would _never_ have that.

The doorbell suddenly pulled him back into reality.

"I'll get that…" Finn got up and left the kitchen to answer the door. They couldn't hear who it was, but Finn wasn't alone when he came back a few minutes later.

When Puck's eyes caught sight of the men entering the kitchen, the whole world seemed to come to a halt. This just wasn't possible.

"Noah… I'm so glad you're here. I've been looking all over for you!" Danny's voice sounded relieved, and only Puck knew, that it wasn't real. Still sounded pretty convincing though...

Burt stood up and walked over to the man standing in the door. "And you are…?"

"Oh… I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel. I'm Daniel Simmons." Danny held out his hand and Burt took it, not knowing that he was practically shaking hands with the devil.

"So, you've been lookin' for the kid? Mind if I ask, why?"

"Well… he's been gone the whole night, and didn't answer his cell. His mother and I were really worried…"

"And you know Mrs. Puckerman how?" Burt's voice still sounded slightly skeptical.

"I've been living with her for over two years…"

"That true, kid?" Burt looked over to Puck, who was still trying to understand what was going on. He'd expected that Mr. Hummel would take this opportunity to get rid of him… and this strange interrogation was just really confusing. Maybe he had underestimated Kurt's dad. At least it seemed like Mr. Hummel wasn't going to let him take off with every walk-in stranger knocking at his door.

"Yeah…" Puck finally got out. "Yeah, Danny's been living with us for quite a while now." He tried to smile, but couldn't really make it work.

"Ok then. I guess then there's no reason not to let you take him back home."

There was an awkward silence before Puck realized that those wordes had been the cue for him to leave. He stood up and walked over to the two men still standing at the door. "I'll get my things…", he said, trying to get past Danny. But he was stopped by a hand on his arm.

He wouldn't… would he? Not here.

"My God, Noah… what happened to your face?"

Damn… he was good. If he hadn't known better, Puck himself would probably believe that the worried face and the slightly uneven voice were real.

"It's nothing, Dan…"

"Doesn't look like nothing. What happened?"

_You know exactly what happened. You did it yourself!_

"Just… can we talk about it, when we get home?", Puck asked, not able to listen to this any longer. Danny acting all worried and concerned was just way too creepy.

"Yeah… you're probably right. Get your things and I'll meet you at the car."

"Thanks for breakfast.", Puck said before he finally got out of the kitchen, leaving a slightly confused family behind. He hurried downstairs to get his jeans and the shirt, when he heard someone coming down behind him. He nearly expected it to be Danny, but knew, that he wouldn't be that stupid.

"So… this Danny guy… That the guy your mom's been seeing? The one you told me about last year?"

_The one and only._

"Yeah…" Strangly enough, Puck had been able to prevent Finn from ever meeting Danny since the guy had started ruining his life... well, at least until today.

"How is he? I mean…"

"Ok, I guess. My mom certainly loves him. And he's great with Sarah…" That was actually the truth, and telling it for once felt somewhat strange… unfamiliar.

"That's great, man. I'm happy for you guys…"

_Don't be…_

Puck closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was getting really hard. Why did it have to be this hard? He had been lying for the past two years and it had never been a problem… why now?

"So… I guess I'm going home…", he said after he picked up his clothes. "Man, I'd really hoped that I wouldn't have to tell him about that fight. I've been avoiding him since that happened, you know? So he wouldn't see my face?" And once again, he was covering up for Danny, although Kurt and Finn probably hadn't even realized that a big hole had opened up in his story as soon as Danny had so worriedly mentioned the bruise on his face. Didn't matter. This way he made sure that they wouldn't even start to dig any deeper.

"Yeah… that must really suck."

_You don't know half of it!_

"Ehm… Kurt said to tell you that you could take that stuff with you, you know? For the bruises?"

"Right… thanks." He picked up the small jar. "For everything."

"No big deal. Couldn't just let you freeze to death…"

A few minutes later, they went back to the kitchen. There was an odd silence when they entered and Puck wasn't sure, what to say. "Thanks again for breakfast…", was all he finally got out.

"Anytime, Puck." Finn's mom gave him another kind smile and Puck returned it before he left. When he closed the front door, he let out a deep sigh, before he walked over to the car. Danny was already waiting impatiently.

_As if I'm walking from heaven to hell…_

Puck opened the passenger's side door and got in, asking himself, how Danny had even found him. And why he'd been looking for him in the first place. After all, he had made it pretty clear that he didn't want Puck back at the house. But then again, Danny's behavior had always been very far from being predictable.

Danny started the car and they drove off, leaving behind the house that had been Puck's save haven for the night.

"So… what did you tell them?", Danny asked after the house had gotten out of sight.

Puck didn't answer.

"You must've told them something, or that guy sure as hell wouldn't have let you leave with me."

Still… no answer.

"What were you even doing over there? I thought Finn and you weren't talking."

How did he even know that? It wasn't like he'd ever been interested in his life - except when he got into trouble, then, of course, he was first at the scene.

"And that Hummel kid… didn't you throw him in the dumpster every morning?"

This was getting really creepy.

"Never thought you'd share a room with Dumbo and the f-"

"Don't. Call. Them. That!" Puck's voice sounded angry, and he didn't even know why it bothered him so much. They hadn't been real friends for a long time - or, in Hummel's case, ever - but still, he wasn't going to let Danny insult the only two people who had been willing to help him out. Not that they had cared enough to question his lies, but at least they had let him stay the night despite everything that had happened last year.

"Oh… did I hit a nerve there? I mean, it's true, isn't it? Finn would probably get lost in his own room… and the other kid? If there's ever been someone more cliché-"

"Stop it!" The words barely came through his gritted teeth.

"Or what? Don't tell me you finally got the balls to stand up to me." A sick smile spread on Danny's lips. "Nah… that'll never happen."

"Maybe not. But I can still tell them the truth…"

"No, you won't." Danny said and stopped the car. "You're too afraid…"

Puck looked out of the side window, staring at the house that had ceased to be his home a long time ago. "I'm not afraid of you…" He wasn't even sure if that was true.

"Yeah… maybe. But it's not what I meant. You're afraid that they won't believe you. And why would they? You're a liar, Noah… it's the only thing you're good at."

"It's the only thing keeping you out of jail."

"No, it's not… and you know that as well as I do. I've always been the better liar!" With that, Danny opened the door and left the car. Puck followed, feeling more alone than he'd ever had before. Sure, that night had been exhausting, being asked all those questions without the possibility of escape… but at least, it had been safe.

He should've just told them. And even if they hadn't believed him, at least, he would've tried. And maybe, just maybe, all of this could have been over.

But he just didn't know how to tell the truth anymore. He had lost that ability somewhere on the way, while this secret was eating him up from the inside, fighting to get out, robbing him of what little strength he had left. And he knew that, one day, it would come out. He just hoped, that it wouldn't be too late…


	9. Interlude

**Interlude**

Puck stared out of the window, waiting for the sun to go down, his room to be filled by the darkness. The rain was painting strange patterns on the glass as time slowly went by. But it wasn't snowing, yet.

He looked down at his forearms, the new bruises already starting to show on his skin. At least those were the only marks Danny had left on him tonight, before he'd shoved him into his room. If the door frame hadn't been wrecked, Danny probably would have locked him in. But it was, so, there was nothing keeping him from leaving again, and the thought of running away once and for all was very tempting. But Puck knew that it would be exactly what Danny wanted him to do. He probably was downstairs, waiting for him to try and sneak out.

So, instead, Puck sat on his bed, every now and then staring at his phone, trying to decide what to do. In the last few hours he had tried to get himself to call Finn, had even pressed the call-button twice, but had hung up before Finn even had the chance to pick up.

Puck pressed the call-button once again, this time waiting a little longer, but when he heard Finn's voice on the other end, he hung up before he could even think about anything to say.

A few moments later, the display came to life again. Finn was calling him back.

_Damn it…_

Had it already gotten so far, that he was afraid to pick up his phone? He could just pick up and tell Finn that he had misdialed his number. Hust another lie. There was nothing to it. Easily done. But he just didn't know if he could get the words out, not after he'd left this morning, after he'd felt the weight of all his lies crushing down on him.

Something had changed…

Maybe it was the fact, that his life had become one never-ending nightmare since he'd gotten out of juvie. Or that Danny had smashed his guitar. Or that, staying at Finn's, he had felt safe for the first time in months. Didn't matter, the outcome was the same either way: he wasn't sure if he could do this any longer. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

His phone started ringing again, and in a sudden rise of desperation, he threw it against the wall.

_This was just so unfair…_

He lay down on the covers, facing the window, and started staring again. The darkness had filled up his room, only the streetlamps outside painting shadows on his walls. He just wished that someone - anyone - would tell him what to do.

He jerked at the sudden knock at his door.

"Noah?" The girl's voice was quiet and gentle, something that he didn't hear in this house very often.

"Come in…"

Puck sat up and switched on the lamp next to him, a hint of a smile spreading over his lips, when she walked through the room, a book in her arms. Sarah climbed onto the bed and sat down next to him, a hopeful smile on her face.

"That's a pretty thick book you got there, little one…"

"It's one of my favorites."

"I know." He took the book from her and looked at the worn down cover. She'd read it so many times, that the title on the spine wasn't even readable any more. Sarah loved books, would spent the whole day reading if she could. She'd go to the library more times in one month than Puck had in his entire life. And she wasn't picky. She would read anything she could get her hands on. He still couldn't understand, why she loved this one so much, though.

"So… will you read for me?", she asked quietly.

Whenever Danny and Puck had had a fight, that wouldn't end with Puck leaving the house, Sarah would come knocking at his door as soon as it started to get dark outside. Sometimes he wouldn't answer - sometimes, he just _couldn't_ - but when he did, she would bring a book and he would read to her, for as long as she could keep her eyes open.

"Of course I will."

Puck was glad, that all Sarah ever witnessed was the yelling. At least, he hoped it was all she knew about it. Sometimes, when it had gotten really bad, he'd feared that she'd found out. But if she knew, she never showed it. Still, Sarah couldn't understand any of it. She loved her big brother. He had been there for her, after their dad had left, he had taken care of her whenever their mom couldn't… he had _always_ been there for her.

Puck opened the book at the first chapter, took a deep breath, and started to read:

"_Call me Ishmael…"_

Time flew by as his voice filled the room. Sarah had put her head on his shoulder, silently listening to every word leaving his lips, and for a few hours, they escaped into the world built inbetween these pages, leaving all the pain behind.

It was half past ten when Puck noticed, that she had fallen asleep. He closed the book and turned off the light, before he carefully laid her down on his bed. He didn't even notice the tears in his eyes, as he gently brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. And when he whispered a silent goodnight into her ear he just hoped, that her dreams would be filled with happiness, that the dark shadows, that were always haunting him, would leave her alone...

And while he watched her sleep, he suddenly realized, that she was the reason, that she had always been the reason… the only reason he stayed. He would never leave her behind. She meant everything to him…

* * *

Author's note:

I really wanted to thank all of you for reading this story and leaving me so many reviews. (I write it in here, because I'm not quite sure, if anyone reads my responses in the review section...) I know, that this is a small chapter, but I think the story needed a little moment like this. As for Sarah... I just like to think that she uses the books to escape from a reality she can't understand. I chose "Moby Dick" for two reasons: I've read it when I was 10 or 11 (which is the age I chose Sarah to be in this story)... and I loved it... and as for the second reason: the white whale is just something I couldn't stop thinking about in connection with Puck's situation... but he's not ready to chase after his white whale, yet...

So... let me know what you think!


	10. Dead end

**Dead end**

Monday.

Worst day of the week.

Really.

It ruins your weekend, because it always looms right around the corner on Sundays, letting you know that another day of school is about to come up. And, of course, Monday being the first day of the week, it always meant that there were five days standing in the way of another weekend.

But this particular Monday was even worse.

It started with Danny taking away his keys and thus forcing Puck to walk to school for the first time since he'd saved enough money to buy the truck. He barely made in time for first period. Not that he would've minded missing it, but he really didn't need to add detention to the long list of his problems.

Then there was that moment somewhere between first and last period, when Rachel stopped him in the hallway, almost yelling at him for what seemed like hours… and although he didn't really listen to a word she said, he was pretty sure that it had something to do with him having missed Glee practice on Saturday, and something about serious trouble if he would miss practice tomorrow.

And Finn and Kurt just behaved very strangely the whole day, always looking at him in a weird way. Though he wasn't really sure if it was concern or disappointment. And trying to avoid Finn so he wouldn't ask him about all those phone calls, was a lot harder than he'd thought.

But the really, really bad thing waited for him when he got home.

He didn't even notice it, until he got into the house. But something had been missing. Outside.

The truck.

Puck opened the door again, and stared at the street, at the spot where he'd left his truck on Saturday, where it had been this morning when he'd gotten out of the house. But it wasn't there.

His truck was gone.

"Looking for something?"

Puck jerked around, startled by the voice behind him. "Where is it?", he asked, although he already knew that he probably wouldn't like the answer to that question.

"I brought it to the junkyard.", Danny said, smiling.

Puck really didn't like that answer.

"But… but why?", was all he got out.

"Because it's a piece of junk. It's the perfect place for it."

Okay… Danny might even be right about that part, but that piece of junk was still driving and it was his… he'd worked hard for it.

"You can't do that!" It wasn't much of a defense, and it wasn't going to change anything. But Puck was still shocked by the fact, that his ride was going to get crushed into a metallic cube.

"I think I just did." Danny closed the door, stopping Puck from staring at the empty spot on the street any longer. "And besides… walking is supposed to be healthy."

"Yeah… right. Because you've always been _so_ concerned about my health." The anger was back, slowly rising up inside him. The knowledge that there was absolutely nothing he could do about this, made it even worse.

"You've got something to say?" Puck almost missed the hint of malice in Danny's voice. He knew, that, if he'd pushed any further, Danny would change into that raging monster once again… and Puck just didn't have the strength to fight him today.

"No."

Defeated. Once again.

"Good… and you probably want these back." Danny said and took out Puck's keys. "Don't loose them!" And with that, he threw them on the floor and walked away.

Puck picked up the keys and walked up the stairs, still trying to wrap his head around the fact, that his truck was gone. He slammed the door when he got to his room. Didn't matter that it wasn't going to stay closed, Puck just needed something to stop that sickening feeling of weakness from taking over.

It wasn't working.

He threw his bag on the floor and closed the door, putting the chair in front of it. Danny had taken everything away from him. His family. His home. His music. And now, the only thing left that had given him at least a little bit of freedom.

Puck just wanted to scream, to let it all out, to tell the world about the hell he'd been living in. He wanted to hurt that man, to beat the crap out of him. But he knew, that, by the time he would be standing face to face with that guy again, all the hatred would be torn away by that paralyzing fear.

Puck would never - _never -_ admit it to anyone, but whenever Danny was about to explode, he got scared. He would never show it, would cover it up with his mouth, and by that making Danny even more angry. But it was better than letting that guy know that he was terrified.

Every time he left school, he was afraid to get home. Every time he got up in the morning, he was afraid to go downstairs. Every time he went to bed he was afraid to fall asleep. He'd been afraid for over two years. And it made him sick. It made him sick, to know that he couldn't face up to the guy doing this to him, to be this helpless and weak.

Puck hadn't even noticed that he'd slammed his fist into the wall. That he was still slamming his fist into the wall. Again. And again. And again... until his knuckles split open, leaving red trails running down the wall. But he didn't care. He couldn't feel the pain, couldn't see the blood running over his hand. He just kept hitting the wall until there was nothing left to feel…

His knees started quivering, giving out under his weight. He slumped to the floor, exhaustion taking over his body, leaving him sitting on the ground, waiting for something to happen, something - anything - to proof, that time was still going forward… that the world hadn't stopped.

His hand started throbbing, and, very slowly, the pain started to draw attention to itself until it was all he could feel.

Puck was staring down at the bloody mess the wall had left him with. If it hadn't been for the pain he wouldn't even know that it belonged to him. It felt weird to even look at it. He tried to move his fingers and was glad that they still seemed to work, but it hurt… a lot… and he knew that he couldn't leave it untreated.

He crawled over to his bed, trying to reach the first-aid-kit he had stashed under there. Well, it wasn't really a first-aid-kit, but he got a few bandages, disinfectant - he had learnt his lesson on that after his encounter with the coffee table - and a few other things that would help with most of the minor injuries. He had even put that little jar in the box, the one Kurt had given him for the bruises.

Puck reached under the bed again, to get the bowl, the bottle of water and the towel he'd put there a few weeks ago. He didn't want to go to the bathroom right now, didn't want to risk walking into Danny… didn't want to show that man how much this was getting to him.

He opened the bottle and took a deep breath, before he held the hand over the bowl and started washing the blood away. His hand didn't look much better afterwards, though. He dried it off, and pressed the towel to the damaged knuckles for a few minutes, hoping, that it would stop them from bleeding. The red stains would probably never get out, but that really wasn't a problem right now… or at all.

After a few more minutes, he took the towel away, and stared at the damage he'd done. This wasn't good. Really. Not. Good. The skin over the knuckles had split in several places, blood still oozing out of a few cuts. And there seemed to be some swelling, too. Moving his fingers was already a lot harder than it had been ten minutes ago, and he knew, that he should probably have a doctor take a look at it. But he couldn't risk that, could he? This hand had "fist fight" written all over it. But, would they really ask him about that? What if he'd just tell the doc what happened, that he'd punched a wall… would he believe it?

Didn't matter. Puck already knew that he wouldn't try. Not, if he could help it. And even if he'd wanted to, he had no way of getting to the hospital. It was on the other end of town, and he really wasn't up for that kind of walk right now - he probably wouldn't even get out of the house in one piece.

No… Puck just had to hope, that it looked worse than it was, that nothing was actually broken.

He took the disinfectant and held his breath for a moment. This was gonna hurt for sure. He really hated that burning pain this stuff created on his skin, but he knew that there was no way around it, and another few minutes later, his hand was all bandaged up. That left only the problem of how he was going to write anything down for the next few days, since there was no way that he could hold a pen - or anything else for that matter. Not that he took a lot of notes during classes, but still…

And - once again - he had to think of another lie… another reason.

Puck took a deep breath and lay down on his bed. Maybe, just maybe, the sleep would take his pain away... for now.

* * *

But he didn't sleep, at least, not very well, and when he got up early the next morning, his hand hurt more than he would've thought possible. He could barely move his fingers, and the sight awaiting him when he took off the bandage, wasn't pretty. He couldn't even look at it for more than a minute…

He should really go to the hospital.

Puck took a new bandage and wrapped his hand up again.

Maybe he would go… later…

The morning passed by in a blur, and when he got to Glee practice that afternoon, he couldn't even remember the last class he'd been sitting in. His hand had been throbbing, hurting, robbing him of any other thought. He had tried to hide the bandage under the long sleeves of his shirt, but they weren't long enough to reach over his knuckles, and the white fabric was still visible. Almost everyone he'd walked into this morning, had asked him about it… well, at least the Glee kids had, and he'd answered their question with a shrug, mumbling something that no one could hear, saying things like "none of your business" and "what's it to you", and they'd left him alone. But he knew, that they were probably talking about it behind his back, and that they would most certainly try to get a real answer as soon as he got to the choir room. The thought of skipping practice crossed his mind, but he knew, that he couldn't do that again. The cold wouldn't work a second time. No, they would all know why he wasn't there, and he really didn't like the idea of them starting to discuss all kinds of horrific scenarios that might have led to this.

He had to face them.

So he showed up a few minutes late, and became slightly suspicious, when he saw Mr. Schue talking to Finn and Kurt. Even more so, as they stopped talking the moment they got sight of him. Good thing that he'd already decided to leave the second that practice was over, before they would even have time to think about cornering him. He wasn't even able to face one of them alone, anymore, and having all three of them talking at him, demanding the truth? He couldn't let that happen… he had to get out of here as soon as possible.

But they didn't get to the end of the rehearsal. Didn't even make it to halftime.

Puck didn't really know how it even happened - or _what_ actually happened - but during the first dance number, someone bumped into him, or he stumbled, or… something… that led to him falling to the floor. Someone cried out in pain, and it wasn't until Mr. Schuester was squatting right in front of him, that Puck realized that he himself had been the one crying out - and that the others were all staring at him, shocked expressions on their faces.

"You're alright?"

"What happened?"

"Is he ok?"

He couldn't see who was talking, their voices mixing into one giant cloud of noise, while all he could think of was that blinding pain in his right hand.

"Let me take a look at that…"

_No… no way…_

But Puck didn't have the strength to resist. He just wished that someone would make it stop. He closed his eyes, trying to fight another wave of pain, when Mr. Schue started to unwrap the bandage, that was already starting to soak in fresh blood. Puck could hear the others gasping and someone crying out.

_This was bad… really, really bad…_

"What happened?", the teacher asked, the shock clearly audible in his voice.

"Nothing." He could at least try, couldn't he? "It's nothing… really." He opened his eyes again, trying to smile… but really? Who would have been able to make that work being in this kind of situation?

"That's not nothing!" Mr. Schue seemed a little bit overwhelmed by the situation. "Okay… ehm…" He took a few moments to think. "I'll take you to the hospital. The rest of you: go home! Rehearsal's over for today."

The fact that no one, not even Rachel, tried to argue over that, made this whole thing seem even worse.

Puck hadn't noticed them leaving, but when Mr. Schue helped him off the floor, they were all gone. The teacher had already gotten Puck's bag and jacket and a few minutes later, they were in the car, driving.

This was just so surreal.

It all happened pretty fast after that - except for the part in the hospital waiting area… that had probably taken hours - but apart from that, it all went over rather quickly.

Puck had been lucky: he hadn't broken any bones, but the wall had left him with a few serious contusions. They bandaged it up pretty good, until he couldn't even move the tips of his fingers anymore, and told him to come back, soon. They gave him some minor painkillers and told him how and when to take them. But he didn't really listen. He just nodded along, and was finally allowed to leave.

When they had asked him how it had happened, he'd told them about the wall, and he was really glad that they hadn't asked him to take off his shirt when they had looked at his hand, because the bruises on his forearms would've raised a whole new kind of questions. But no one had seen them, and they hadn't asked anything else, which had really surprised him for a second or two, before that assistant doctor guy or whoever he was, had grabbed his hand not-so-gently, and the pain had once again been the only thing on his mind. And now, that he had gotten through the hospital part, and was back in Mr. Schue's car, he almost wished that they'd asked more questions, or held him for the night or something… anything to stop his teacher from driving him home, because there was no way that Mr. Schue would just let him get out of the car and into the house this time. Puck had barely been able to stop him from calling his mom when they had gotten to the hospital, but he wouldn't be able to stop him from knocking at the door.

The car stopped in front of the house before Puck even had the chance to think of a way to get out of this. And before he even realized, what was going on, they were both walking up to the stairs. But it wasn't his mom who opened the door. It was Danny. And he was smiling. But not that sick, vicious smile Puck had seen on him so many times… the nice and welcoming kind of smile, and it faded as soon as he got sight of Mr. Schuester's concerned face.

"Noah? What's going on?", he asked, probably not sure which face to wear, the worried or the disappointed one.

"Hello, Mr…?"

"Simmons. Sorry… and you are?"

"I'm Will Schuester, Puck's teacher. Is Mrs. Puckerman home?"

This was awkward. In the worst possible way.

"No… no, she's not here right now."

Of course she wasn't. How convenient. _Lying bastard._

"So… what's going on?", Danny asked again.

"There has been a minor incident during Glee rehearsal today and I had to take Puck… Noah, to the hospital."

The shocked expression on Danny's face would have fooled anyone…

"It's not as serious as I first thought, but I wanted to make sure that he got home alright."

"I- I don't know what to say… thank you… Mr. Schuester, was it?"

The teacher nodded, not sure if there was anything else he should say or do, but he really couldn't think of anything. He was just glad that Puck would be okay, and it was really getting late.

"Goodnight.", was all he said in the end, before he went back to the car. But when he drove away, leaving the house behind, he just couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something…


	11. Scars and Bruises

**Scars and Bruises  
**

Puck just stood there, staring at the main entrance of McKinley High, not daring to get in. Not yet. He just wasn't sure if he could face them, couldn't stand the thought of them staring at him, asking questions he didn't want to answer.

But maybe they wouldn't ask? Maybe they had already forgotten about it?

Who was he kidding. Of course they would ask. He'd practically collapsed in the middle of rehearsal… well, not really collapsed, but still… it had been embarrassing non the less. And he hadn't even been able to give some kind of badass comment or cocky response. He had just sat there, on the floor, not able to do anything.

And they had all seen it, had all witnessed that one weak moment.

Puck took a deep breath and walked towards the entrance. There was just no way around it, no matter how much he wished for an escape.

When he walked through the hallways to get to his locker, he had the feeling that everyone was staring at him, as if they _all_ knew what had happened the day before. But that wasn't possible, was it? The others wouldn't tell anyone about it, would they?

No… he was probably just imagining it.

Didn't matter though. There were still enough people who already knew.

When he turned the next corner, he saw Finn standing in front of his locker, obviously waiting for him to arrive. Puck thought about turning around, about leaving, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to run away from this forever. Better just get it over with.

"Hey…", he said, a hint of a smile on his face, as he tried to open the locker with his left hand.

"Hey…" Finn seemed a little bit surprised by the cheerful greeting - if you could call that cheerful. "So… how's the hand?"

"Okay I guess. Can't move my fingers, though." Puck held up the hand, showing the bandage that prevented his fingers from being moved.

"Must really suck…"

"Yeah, it does. But at least nothing's broken." Puck turned back to his locker, hoping that Finn would just leave him alone. But he wasn't that lucky. Of course not. He never was.

"What happened?", Finn asked carefully.

"The usual. Punching a wall and stuff…", Puck replied swiflty and took out a book at random, not sure which classes he had to attend this morning. Finn didn't seem to like that answer very much, though.

"Dude… seriously. What the hell is going on with you?"

_Believe me… you don't wanna know!_

"Nothing… I'm fine." Those words just sounded so wrong. He wasn't fine. Far from it. "What makes you think that anything was going on?" But Puck knew that it was a stupid question to ask, even before the words left his mouth.

"I don't know. You just… you're acting kinda weird lately."

_Oh… just lately?_

"It's been a bad week. It happens." Puck pretended to look for something else in his locker, trying to get the door between Finn and himself. This thing right here? It had to stop… like, right now!

"Don't give me that. There's something you're not telling me." Finn's voice was getting more demanding.

"There's actually a lot I'm not telling you, but that's just because we haven't been talking, like, at all..."

"What about Saturday night?", Finn tried again.

"What about it?"

"Well… I mean…" Finn obviously hadn't thought that far.

"What, Finn? That, just because you took me in and helped me out, I'm now somehow indebted to you? That we're like best buddies again after one night, when you did nothing but ignore me for the last six months? Tell me! I'd really like to know." Puck slammed the door shut, trying to ignore the startled look on Finn's face. "Are we done now?"

"No. I mean… I just want to know if you're ok.", was all Finn got out after Puck's sudden outburst.

"And why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't know. You, like, called me three times on Sunday, and hung up." The words stumbled out of Finn's mouth. "And you didn't answer when I called you back."

"So?"

"So… it kinda freaked me out a little bit, that's all. And after what happened yesterday… I just got a bit worried."

"Sure you did…" Puck couldn't do this anymore. He turned away from Finn and his locker, just trying to get away.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that I just care about you?"

_Yeah… it is…_

Puck didn't answer. He just walked away, leaving a confused and worried Finn behind.

Finn wasn't the only one who asked, though. He had just been the first of many. But Puck didn't engage in any more discussions on the secrets he supposedly kept from all of them. Not that he wasn't keeping a secret, but he was pretty sure that none of them would even dare to think of _that_ dark a secret. They probably thought that he was still engaged in some kind of fight club, or something else that would land him back in juvie if anyone ever found out. But after a while it was getting really hard to try and avoid them, and Puck was kind of relieved when it was time for his daily "math-headache". He'd been really looking forward to that nice little nap in the nurses office.

But he didn't get that far…

"Puck?"

He turned around, startled, not sure, what else to do.

"What's up, Mr. Schue?"

_Just hide behind that smile… like you always do…_

"I need to talk to you." The teacher stood in the door, a stern look on his face, waiting. And Puck just didn't know how to get out of this one. He couldn't just leave, could he? So he took a deep breath and walked over to the office, once again feeling somehow trapped as soon as the door was closed behind him. Mr. Schue motioned for him to sit down, but Puck stayed at the door. He just wanted to get this over with and get out. No time to get comfortable.

"So… what is it you wanna talk about?", Puck asked, although he already knew the answer to that. There was only one thing everyone wanted to talk about lately.

"Well… I'm not really sure where to start." Mr. Schuester stood behind his desk, his hand resting on the back of his chair.

"How about this: I'll let you think about it, and we'll meet back here in, let's say, never?" Puck didn't know where those words came from. He hadn't intended to say any of it.

"Stop it, Puck-"

"Or what? You'll kick me out of your office?" Puck knew that _that_ wasn't going to happen, but it was a nice thought, a nice way to get out of this.

"Just… just sit down and listen to me for a second, will you?" Strangely enough, Mr. Schuester didn't seem mad, not even the slightest. There was just that deep expression of concern on his face.

_He didn't know, did he? _

Puck stared at his teacher for a few more seconds, before he walked over to the chair and sat down. There was no point in resisting this any longer.

"I wanted to talk to you yesterday, after Glee, but…" Mr. Schue took a short glance at Puck's bandaged hand. "Anyway... I still need some answers."

"I already told you what happened: I punched a wall. Big deal."

_So… telling the truth for a change…_

"Not that. It's about last Thursday."

_Last Thursday? Oh, right… the "drug problem"_

"I already talked to Ms. Pillsbury about that. But... you should know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. Yesterday, before Glee practice, I overheard Kurt and Finn talking about you-"

_Oh no…_

"- something about you getting in yet another fight. They weren't so fond of sharing anything with me, but in the end, they told me about last weekend, and the fight Thursday night." Mr. Schuester fell silent for a moment, giving the words some time to reach Puck's ears before he continued: "So, I asked myself, how that was even possible, when _I_ dropped you off at home around two in the morning. How could you have even gotten into a fight after that? And more importantly: Why? Have you become so irresponsible, that you're not even thinking about the consequences? Do you really want to go back to juvie?"

So that's what this was about. The "fight". Puck actually let out a sigh of relief. That was something he could talk himself out of, right?

"I _never_ think about consequences. That's what keeps getting me into trouble in the first place.", he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you already know that!"

"Yeah… sadly, I do." The disappointment in Mr. Schue's voice was almost unbearable…

"I've been in bigger trouble before…"

"Probably. But-"

"But what? Are you afraid that I'll be sent back to juvie and ruin regionals for you guys? Because _that's_ not a problem! You'll find someone else." Puck stared at the floor. "It's not like I'm irreplaceable…"

Mr. Schuester visibly flinched at that, as if those words were physically hurting him, and for a moment it seemed like he didn't even know how to respond to that.

"That's not true… and you know that.", the teacher said after a while, sadness in his voice.

"Yeah, right…", Puck snorted, not looking up.

Mr. Schue stepped away from his desk, rubbing the bridge of this nose. "Just… tell me, what happened."

"Why the sudden interest? I mean… it's not like you've ever asked before." Puck raised his head, getting back into a defensive position.

"Because I don't want to see you ruining your life like that…"

"So what? You wanna oversee my every step now?"

"Of course not." Mr. Schuester didn't know what else to say. They've been beating around the bush for quite some time now, and he hadn't gotten any further to the truth. "Let's just go back to the beginning…", he tried again. "I know that you've been lying to me… that you've probably been lying to everyone."

"Maybe I just don't like people sticking their noses into my business."

Another little piece of truth…

"I get that. But how did you get from being okay when I dropped you off, to that bruise on your face the next morning? How could you get into a fight during such short a time?"

_He was getting too close. A lie. Think of another lie. Think…_

"I… ehm… it happened… on the way to my truck."

Mr. Schuester just stared at him, not believing a word he said. "Stop lying to me, Puck. This is Lima, Ohio, not New York city! There's just no way you could've gotten into a fight on the way to your car." And with those words Puck knew, that it was over, that the lying was going to end, right here, right now.

"I just want to help you…"

Puck couldn't explain the sudden anger rising up inside him, didn't know why those words did nothing but hurt. "Yeah, right… why would _you _wanna help me? It's not like anyone _ever_ cared!" Puck stood up from the chair, trying to get some space between himself and the teacher.

"Of course people care. Why would you even say something like that?" Mr. Schue seemed taken aback by the sudden change in Puck's behavior.

But Puck just stared at him, anger flaring in his eyes. "Because it's true!", he said forcefully. "Nobody. Cares." His voice was getting louder with every word coming out of his mouth. "It's like the thing that happened to Kurt, but at least in _that_ case people were worried enough _not_ to believe him when he said that he was fine…" Puck's voice was somewhat stuck between being desperate and getting more angry. "But even then it took a whole lot more to happen before anyone actually _did _something about it. I mean… he got a freakin' _death threat._ That's like the eleventh hour, man…"

"What does Kurt have to do with this?", Mr. Schuester asked, not sure where Puck was going with this. Until…

"Did Karofsky do that to you?", he asked, motioning towards the bruise on Puck's face.

Puck just shook his head in disbelief. "Wow… you're really not getting this, are you?" He looked over to his teacher, who seemed to be at a loss for words. "Karofsky has _nothing_ to do with this!"

Mr. Schue just stood there, speechless.

"And to answer your first question: Kurt has nothing to do with this, either. But… then again, it has everything to do with this. You know what the difference is?"

The teacher just shook his head, obviously shocked by the sudden turn in this conversation.

"The difference is, that people actually _asked_ him if he was alright. No one ever asked me that… well, at least not really. And let's be honest, why would they?" Puck's hands had started shaking, the anger starting to rise again. "The bruises and cuts and all that… it all fits right in with the bad-boy image... the image of the high school jock, the badass, the delinquent, who gets into trouble all the time. You all took the easy way out, all looked the other way…" Puck breathed out heavily before he continued, his voice shaking:

"Did you even know that I was in the hospital for nearly two weeks last summer?" Puck looked at Mr. Schue, his eyes filled with so much pain, that it nearly broke Will's heart.

"What happened?", Will asked quietly.

"Fell on my mom's precious coffee table." Without even noticing it, Puck's left hand brushed over his right arm, where the scars were hidden under his shirt. "Didn't really like all those glass shards sticking out of me…"

Will closed his eyes, trying to fight back the horrific images building up in his mind. "Your mother did this?"

"No. Her good-for-nothing boyfriend did. But she's not exactly innocent… didn't really prevent him from doing it. She would just stand there, staring at me, as if she didn't even know who I was…" Puck's voice was frail, about to crack, when, all of a sudden, the anger was back again, boiling up inside him. "I'm her _son_, for God's sake. And she did nothing - _nothing -_ to stop him…" He didn't care that he was practically yelling now, angry tears filling his eyes as his mind rushed back to those haunting memories.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?", Will asked in an attempt to prevent Puck from getting caught up in his anger.

"Why didn't I… Why…" Puck had trouble even getting the words in the right order. "You really need to _ask_?" He swallowed hard, all the desperation suddenly bursting out of him. "Who would believe a guy like me? It would be _his_ word against mine. And there's just no way that anyone would believe the town delinquent with the juvie record when the other guy is a respectable accountant."

"Wait… that man at the door yesterday...?" Will suddenly remembered the man who had opened the door. The smile. The concern on that man's face.

"Who did you think he was? The mailman?"

"But he seemed so… friendly." Will had a puzzled expression on his face.

"Yeah… fascinating, isn't it? The guy can be pretty nice when he's around other people. His smile's probably worth millions. Still doesn't change the fact that he's a scumbag with serious anger issues and a big drinking problem!"

"But…", was all Will got out while he tried to understand what Puck had just told him. This just wasn't possible. How could he have missed that? _"Walked into my bedroom door…" _He remembered that one clearly. But there had been many answers like that before. He should've seen it.

"Guess that means I was wrong…" Puck said quietly.

"What?", Will asked absently, still lost in his thoughts.

"I was wrong…", Puck repeated. "- thinking, that you would believe me."

"What…? No. I mean… of course I believe you. I just-" Will was still trying to find the right words, when Puck suddenly took his bag and walked towards the door. "Wait… where're you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"What…? Why?"

"Because you're obviously asking yourself just now, why such a nice and caring man would do something like this, thinking that I probably must have misinterpreted the situation or something like that. At least those were the words my math teacher used two years ago, when I tried to tell her about it. She thought that it was just an excuse to avoid detention for getting into a fight." Puck didn't even know where those words suddenly came from. He hadn't told anyone about that before, and he didn't want to right now, but the words just kept stumbling out of his mouth: "Did I mention that she, too, had met Danny before? That's why she didn't believe me… and I haven't attended a math class ever since. Or tried to tell anyone else." Puck had stopped at the door, not daring to look back at his teacher. "And you really were the only person who I thought would actually believe me."

"But I _do_ believe you."

Puck hadn't noticed that Will had followed him through the room, that his teacher was now standing right behind him.

"Doesen't matter..." Puck reached for the door, but Will held him back when his eyes caught sight of something on Puck's left forearm, the sleeve of his shirt no longer covering all of it.

"What the hell…?"

Puck turned away from the door and looked down at his arm. But after what he'd just told Mr. Schue, there was really no point in covering it up any longer. "What? Did you think that he would just hit me in the face and be done with it?"

"It's bad enough…", Will said quietly, not able to look at his student any longer…

"Sorry if this is, like, inconvenient for you or something… but I though that you _wanted_ to hear the truth for a change."

"Well, yeah… but-"

"But what? Is this too much for you? 'S _this_-" Puck pulled up his sleeves, revealing the bruises on his forearms. "- too much for you to handle? Or _this_ one-" He took off the scarf covering the dark-colored skin on his neck. "- too painful for you to look at?" Anger and pain were rising up again, breaking free with every word leaving his lips.

"Wanna see more? Because I got plenty! Got a few scars, too…" Puck glared at his teacher, daring him to say something else.

But no matter how hard Will tried to find the words that would somehow make this better, that would somehow make all of this go away… he couldn't think of anything to say. There was just nothing that could _ever _make this okay.

Will looked over to his student, and a strange mixture of anger and sorrow washed over him, as his eyes wandered over the bruises. This wasn't right. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.

How could anyone do something like that?

"Why didn't you just leave?"

Puck just stood at the door, the anger slowly draining away, as the words sliced through the silence like a sharp knife, digging deeper into the already bleeding wound…

"I asked myself that same question… a lot…" Puck stared at the floor, not entirely sure how to answer it. "I… I don't know. It's just… I think I was always afraid that… when he couldn't use me as a punching bag anymore… that he might start hurting my mom… or worse, my little sister."

"So you _sacrificed_ yourself for them?"

"Yeah… something like that. More for my sister than my mom, though. Not sure if she's still worth it… but… we're a family, you know? A really messed up family, but still…"

The silence crept back into the room, Puck's words hanging in the air like a bad dream that had somehow survived and found its way into reality. Will swallowed hard before he opened his mouth to ask one last question, and he feared the answer to that one more than anything else. But he had to know.

"How long…?"

Silence… deafening silence.

"Two years."

Will closed his eyes.

"Two. Damn. Years." Puck's voice was shaking, thick with tears. "And no one ever asked if I was ok. Ever." He just stared at the floor, tears blurring his vision, as the emotions that he had held back for so long, finally broke free, drowning him in a wave of sorrow and pain.

"Puck, look at me…"

But Puck didn't look up. He kept staring at the floor, tears running down his face, as the world broke into pieces, ripping him apart. "No one ever cared."

"LOOK AT ME!"

Puck slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with fear, telling the story of the dark shadows haunting him… of the nightmare that was his life. And when he opened his mouth, it was barely a whisper, two little words drowning in a breeze of air...

_Help me…_


	12. Running away

**Running away**

_Help me…_

Two little words, that had been stuck in his throat for over two years.

Two little words, that he had wanted to say ever since Danny's hand had landed on his face for the first time.

Two little words, that finally left his lips.

But would never be heard.

Not in the past.

Not now.

And Puck wasn't even sure, if he'd really said them.

They had both forgotten, that they were still at school, that there was still a whole world outside these walls, that there were actual people on the other side of this door. The hallways filled with students, walking from one class to the next, talking, laughing, like they always did, as if this was just another ordinary day. And for most of them, it probably was. But while time seemed to go on for everyone out there… inside this office, it had stopped.

That single moment seemed to last for hours, seconds stretching into minutes, every thought passing through their minds as if in slow motion, holding on as long as they could. And with every second slowly ticking away, it was getting harder to let go of the silence that was painfully hanging between them, holding them apart.

Will had never seen Puck like this, and he suddenly realized that it had all been an act. All the badass comments, the cocky smile - all things to hide what was really going on. And the few times that he had actually let something slip, no one had been listening… _he_ hadn't been listening. And now, Puck was standing in front of him, lost, like a little kid that had nowhere to go… and it broke Will's heart to know, that Puck had dealt with this on his own for so long.

"I'm so sorry…" The words swept through the air, soaking in the silence that had become almost unbearable.

Puck tried to wipe away the tears with the sleeves of his shirt, to get rid of any proof that this had actually happened. But Will could still hear them in his voice: "For what… it's not like you had anything to do with it."

"No, but I should have seen it…", he said quietly, as if he wasn't quite convinced that the silence was really gone. "A long time ago."

"Well… that's the whole point of lying, isn't it? So no one would find out the truth…" Puck shoved his hands into his pockets, didn't even notice the pain it caused in his right hand. He just felt so out of place right now, out of his comfort zone, where he knew what to do… where he knew what to say. The lies were so far away, out of reach… laughing at him. He had left them behind when the first pieces of the truth had come over his lips, and for a few, swift moments, he'd felt an overwhelming wave of ease washing over him. But the liberating feeling hadn't lasted. Talking about the nightmare hadn't made it go away. It had made him relive all those terrifying moments that he had been trying to forget ever since he'd gotten that first glimpse at all the pain that he would have to live through for over two year.

"This is insane…" Will shook his head, trying to convince himself that this had to be some kind of bad dream, desperately hoping that he would just wake up.

But he didn't.

This nightmare was real.

"Tell me about it." Puck's voice was uneven, as he tried to find the way back to his normal self, to get out of this helpless state that his confession had left him in. He didn't want to feel this weak and vulnerable, didn't want his teacher to look at him as if he could break at any second. But he knew that it was too late for that.

He was already broken.

He just didn't know if he could pick up the pieces by himself.

"Okay… ehm… We should - I mean… I will-" Will fought to find the right words, a solution, a way to put an end to this.

"What? Call the police? Child services? Because_ that's _not going to happen…", Puck said when he realized, what kind of consequences his truth-telling could actually have.

"This has to stop, Puck."

"_No one will believe me_!"

So… back to square one, the reason, he hadn't told anyone before.

"I do…"

"Yeah… but when it comes to getting that scumbag behind bars… well, you don't really count. And besides… I'm just not ready for that." Puck felt trapped, pushed into a corner with no way of escape. And although he knew, that Mr. Schue was right, he just couldn't deal with this right now.

"For what? For giving that guy what he deserves?" Will seemed beside himself, trying to figure out, why Puck would say something like that.

"To tell the whole world about it."

The second reason.

"So what? You want me to sit idly by when I know what he's doing to you?" Will hadn't intended to sound angry or mad, but he couldn't control the sudden frustration rising up inside him. He knew that he had to do something about this, that there was something he finally _could_ do about this.

"You can call whoever you want, but Danny will deny everything… hell, _I_ will deny everything. I don't want anyone else to know that I-" Puck stopped for a second, trying to get himself to say those words, those dreaded words that he had never wanted to say: "- that I get my ass kicked almost every freakin' day."

His Pride.

That was the last thing Danny hadn't taken away from him. At least not outside of that house. And somehow it seemed to be the only thing that had kept him going for so long. He had already lost some of it right here in this office, and he just couldn't stand the thought of someone taking away whatever little piece might be left of it.

"But, Puck, that's… I…" Will couldn't even find the rights words to get the thoughts out of his mind. "You'll risk this going on forever, just because you're afraid that people might look at you differently?" Will's voice was shaking with disbelief.

"_You_ already do…" Puck looked at the floor, trying to fight the heat boiling up inside him. "I mean... I like _cried _right in front of you." He had lost control over himself, had allowed the emotions to get the better of him. It had happened before, of course - his hand was proof of that - but never _ever_ in front of someone else. And although he knew that it was stupid, that Mr. Schue just wanted to help him, he couldn't stop feeling embarrassed. "I just can't take any more of the staring and whispering and worrying…", he said, as if that was a solid defense… even when he knew, that it wasn't. Not for this.

"Then what? What do you want me to do?" Will said, feeling more helpless with every second passing by. He knew that he couldn't force Puck to tell the truth, that trying to go behind his back would probably get him into even more trouble. But he had to do _something_.

"I- I don't know. I just want for him to leave… to go and stay gone!" There it was again. The hurt, the pain… the little kid crying for help. But in the blink of an eye, he was gone. "But that's never gonna happen."

"I won't let you go back there… you are _not _going back there…", Will said forcefully in a last attempt to somehow get through to him.

"What d'you wanna do about it? Chain me to the wall?" This felt even worse than all the lying ever had.

"Why are you still fighting this?"

"Because…" Puck didn't even know the answer to that. There _was_ no real answer to that. He just knew that he couldn't talk about this to anyone else. "Because I just can't do this. I don't even know why I told _you_ about it! It's not like I planned to. I never wanted _anyone_ to find out about this… it's _my _problem."

"No, it's not…"

"I handled it on my own for two years just fine." That was a lie, and they both knew it. "I can take it another two…"

"The hell you can!", Will yelled, the frustration breaking out of him. "Have you even looked at yourself?"

Puck visibly flinched at the sudden outrage of his teacher, and without even realizing it, he drew back a few steps. "If you wanna start yelling at me, I'd rather go home and let Danny do that job."

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to-" Will knew that he wasn't handling this right. But he couldn't control the anger boiling up inside him, knowing, what that guy had done to Puck… what he would keep on doing if he didn't stop it. "I just… I just want to…" He hadn't even noticed his hands balling into fists.

"Punch the guy?", Puck asked, staring at his teacher's hands. "Been there. Tried that."

"Unfortunately, it's not an option…" Will took a deep breath, trying to get back control over his emotions. He had to stay calm right now, had to find a solution that wouldn't involve himself going to jail for manslaughter. "It's just… it makes me sick to even think about the things he's done to you over the last two years. I just don't understand why-"

"Don't.", Puck interrupted. "Don't try telling me things I already know.", he added with a sigh. "I know that it's hell, I know that it's not right… but I can't tell anyone else."

"But-"

"I - Just - Can't!" Before he even knew what he was doing, Puck was running out the door, bumping into Finn as he tried to leave the office behind. But he didn't turn around, didn't say anything. He just ran away.

"What the- ?" Finn looked confused. Even more so, when Mr. Schue ran out after Puck.

"WAIT…"

But Puck had already been swallowed by the crowd…

"DAMN IT…" Will kicked over the chair in his office, frustration running through every veins in his body.

"Mr. Schue? What… what the hell is going on?", Finn asked, startled by the events unfolding right in front of him.

"Not now, Finn…" The teacher's voice was shaking.

"But…"

"I SAID: NOT NOW!" Will slammed the door shut and turned away from the startled face staring at him through the window. He was yelling, actually _yelling_ at Finn, who had absolutely no idea what this was all about. But he couldn't care less right now. He needed some time to think!

On the other side of the door, Finn was desperately trying to figure out what this was all about. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that he'd caught a glimpse at that vicious bruise on Puck's neck that he'd last seen Sunday morning. But Puck had been gone so fast, that Finn hadn't really gotten a good look at him. And Mr. Schue's reaction was just… really disturbing. Mr. Schue knew about the fight last Thursday, but could this right here really be about that?

"Hey, Finn… what's going on?" Rachel was suddenly standing next to him, smiling. But the smile left her face when she saw the worried expression on her boyfriend's face.

"Don't know. Puck just ran out of Mr. Schue's office… and now Mr. Schue's all mad and yelling at me."

"I knew it. I knew that, someday, Noah would snap and ruin everything for us. Don't get me wrong, he is a very good singer, though he will never be as good as you, but outside of Glee he is overly unstable - juvenile detention has proven that beyond a doubt. And although his bad-boy image was sometimes hard to resist - not that I would ever fall for that, of course - it was only a matter of time, before this would happen and to be honest, I-"

But Finn never found out, what she was going to say next - Not that he wanted to know… or had even listened to half of her words. Mr. Schue opened the door to his office, and he seemed to be at least a little bit more calm than he had moments before.

"You got Puck's cell number?", he asked Finn without any further explanation.

"Sure… but why?"

"Just give it to me…" The teacher seemed to be determined not to reveal anything about what had happened in his office.

"Alright…" Finn got out his phone. "But he hasn't answered any calls lately."

"I can still try…" Will didn't even know why he wanted to make that call, couldn't explain the sudden concern. Puck was probably just outside the school building, or hanging out at the football field, doing something perfectly normal and rational. But then again, this situation was so far from being normal or rational, that it made him sick. At least trying to get Puck on the phone would be a start.

"What's going on Mr. Schue?", Finn tried again, this whole situation starting to freak him out. Puck was in trouble. And not the 'you're-getting-detention-for-a-month' kind of trouble. No. Something was seriously wrong.

"It's nothing… just…" The teacher couldn't think of any explanation that he could give the two of them. He just knew that he couldn't tell them the truth. "I probably just won't make it to practice today, that's all. So… you're on your own this afternoon.", he added, not wanting to give them any more details.

"Mr. Schuester?" Rachel's voice seemed resolute as ever.

"What?" Will had thought, that he'd calmed down and he couldn't quite believe that he was actually snapping at her.

"Regionals are in a few weeks, and we can't win, if we are constantly interrupting our rehearsals because one of us can't get his act together. So, I suggest that we find a replacement as soon as-"

"Stop it!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Couldn't she see that this was serious? That this had nothing to do with Puck just acting out?

"We didn't have a real rehearsal in a week, and-"

"Shut up!" His voice roared through the hall, leaving shocked expressions on both Rachel's and Finn's face. A few students passing by even stopped for a second, before the teacher's angry glare sent them away. "You have no idea what's going on, so _stay _out of this!"

Will had no idea why he'd lost control again, and it really didn't matter right now. Puck had run away and somehow, that scared him more than anything else.

"Finn… give me that damn number!"

But Finn was still trying to get out of that state of shock that Mr. Schue's outburst had left him in.

"How can we help?" Rachel asked, the seriousness of the situation finally dawning on her. And, somehow, the genuine concern in her voice made all the anger go away. At least, for the moment.

"That's the problem. You can't. Not right now.", he said, a hint of frustration still audible in his voice. "Just… keep the group together at practice this afternoon - in case I shouldn't make it."

"But… where're you going?" Finn had found his voice again, but that didn't mean that the confusion was gone. This whole thing just felt so wrong. And he couldn't stop the painful knot in his stomach from growing. He didn't know what this was about, didn't know what had made Mr. Schue behave like this, but whatever it was, it had to be really, really bad. And the fact that Puck was involved in this - probably was the _reaso_n for all of this - made it even worse.

"I don't know… maybe nowhere. But…" Will didn't even know how to answer that question without telling them what had happened, what Puck had told him. And he couldn't do that, could never betray Puck like that. "I just need to find him."

"Why?" But Finn knew, that he wasn't going to get an answer to that question.

"I can't tell you… okay?" The teacher tried to keep the calm in his voice, to let them know, that this was between Puck and him.

And they understood, didn't ask any more questions. Finn finally gave Mr. Schue the number, and without another word, the teacher left, hoping desperately, that the horrific scenarios rushing through his mind were nothing but figments of his imagination, that nothing like that could ever happen.


	13. White as snow

**White as snow**

So… running away, are we?

Well, not exactly running… _walking_ away would probably be the better term. Didn't matter, though, the result was the same. He was leaving behind the only chance he ever had for this whole thing to end, the only guy who actually wanted to help him.

The cold, fresh air stung on his skin, and he started shivering slightly as he came to a halt on the edge of the football field, watching the first snowflakes whirling through the air. In a few hours, everything would be covered under a soft, white blanket, hiding the dark world underneath.

Being in that office, having his secret exposed like that… it had just been too much for him to handle. Sure, he had thought about telling someone. A lot. Especially these past few days. But he had never thought about what would happen afterwards, about the consequences. And why should he have? It wasn't like he'd ever had a reason to.

In all those situations, where he'd seen himself finally coming clean, in all those moments, where he'd barely managed to hide it, he had never once expected, that anyone would believe him, not even Mr. Schue. Sure, the guy cared about his Glee kids, but, if he'd admit it or not, he had his favorites, and Puck had never counted himself into that group, and since there was barely a day going by without Puck getting himself into some kind of trouble… well, let's just say, that Puck wouldn't have been disappointed if the teacher wouldn't have believed a word he'd said.

And, somehow, it had shocked him in some weird way, that Mr. Schue actually _did_ believe him.

Maybe that was the reason he'd stormed out of that office. But maybe it wasn't. Puck wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore, he just felt really confused right now. The thought, that all of this, the whole lying and getting hurt, all the pain and suffering, that all of it could finally be over… Puck had just hoped, that it would make him feel better, make it easier.

But it didn't.

It just scared the hell out of him.

Up until now, he had always known what to do, had always been sure, what his next step would be. And there were only two things that he'd had to do: Lying and, of course, playing the jock everyone expected him to be. It had been easy. Sometimes even too easy. And he'd never questioned his own ability to create new illusions for the world to see. But that would be over soon, the curtains would fall. And what else was there? What else did he have? The lies had been his life for so long, had made him who he was… and he would loose all of it, loose everything he was. Even if none of it was real.

And then there was this nagging guilt, that he just couldn't explain. Why was _he_ feeling guilty? He hadn't done anything wrong. On the contrary. He'd told the truth. And that was supposed to be a good thing, right?

Right.

But the way Mr. Schue had reacted, how the teacher had nearly collapsed under the weight that Puck had put on his shoulders… Puck knew that it wasn't right to feel guilty just because he wanted someone to help him, but he just couldn't shut up that voice in his head, telling him, that he should've kept his mouth shut, that everything would be a lot easier if all those problems were still hidden and locked away.

Puck didn't know how long he stood there, just staring at the snow, lost in his thoughts. This field was one of the few places, where he was someone, where he'd never had to lie. They might've lost most of the time, but it had always been fun to be out there, to fight for something, even if it was just a game. He'd always been able to leave that sickening weakness behind, had always been able to feel strong, at least for a few moments. The only other thing, that had ever made him feel like that, was Glee. He knew that it had nothing to do with feeling strong, because he didn't need to show his muscles to sing, but he had been able to be himself, had been able to let his guard down. Just never in a way that would expose his secret.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself, that it was enough, that it was enough to feel strong on the football field, enough to feel free in the choir room… it would never really _be _enough.

_It had to end._

Puck left the football field and the school behind, and started walking back to the house… back to hell for one last time. No matter what was going to happen next, there was just no way that he would leave Sarah behind. If he was really going to do this, he had to make sure that she was safe. Didn't matter that Danny probably would never, ever think about hurting her, that he loved her as if she were his own daughter… there was still that tiny, little chance that Danny's anger might get misdirected - especially when he finally had to face up to what he'd done.

And Puck just couldn't risk Sarah being caught in the middle of this.

It was already getting dark by the time he'd found the courage to walk up to the front door. That damn front door that held so many painful secrets. And for a split second, he almost changed his mind. But, for once in his live, he knew that he couldn't take the easy way out… if there even was an easy way.

Danny wasn't home, which could've been a really good thing, if Sarah had been in her room. But she wasn't there, yet, and his plan to get in and out as quickly as possible, was crossed before he could even get into his room.

He would have to wait.

Puck had never been a very patient person. Things just couldn't go fast enough for him. But he managed to get through the first hour by packing and unpacking his duffle bag with clothes and some other things he thought might be important. But then again… was there anything in this room that was still important? Danny had wrecked the only thing that had mattered, and the wooden splinters, that used to be his guitar, were still scattered on the floor. He hadn't been able to get himself to clean that mess up. Not yet. Because, as long as they were lying there, he could still pretend that there was a fight going on inside this house… that he hadn't lost.

But... he was leaving. Running away. That was admitting defeat, wasn't it?

And telling everyone about it. That was fighting against it.

So… in some strange way, he was doing both. Fighting while admitting defeat.

And for the first time since all of this had started, he was able to see it… that small light at the end of the pitch black tunnel that he'd been wandering through for so long.

His eyes fell on the cell phone still lying on the floor where he'd thrown it a few nights ago. He picked it up, not expecting for it to work, but when he put the batteries back in and started it, he was surprised to find it running perfectly. And the list of calls he'd missed over the last couple of days, was very long. But he didn't feel like answering any of them right now. That had to wait. He just had to focus on getting out of here.

But sitting on his bed, staring at the chair that held his door closed… it was killing him. And the longer he had to wait, the more time he had to think about it, to realize how stupid this was, that it would never work.

It was getting late and Puck could hear Sarah going to her room. Now, all he had to do, was wait, until Danny and his mom would come upstairs, too.

His phone started ringing, but whoever it was, Puck didn't pick up. He didn't even recognize the number. He put the phone into the pocket of his jeans and got off his bed. But walking around his room didn't make that nauseating feeling in his stomach go away. He hadn't felt this nervous in a long time, and the anticipation was starting to wear him down. He looked out the window every now and than, hoping, that it would finally stop snowing… but it didn't.

_Just perfect._

They would have to find their way through that white mess outside. And it would be pretty cold, too. Maybe he should just wait another day or two. It couldn't hurt, could it? Dragging his little sister into that kind of weather at this time of night was probably not the best idea. It was irresponsible. And he didn't even want to think about what Finn was going to say when he would turn up on his doorstep in the middle of the night… again.

And what if Sarah didn't want to leave? Because, she still thought that Danny was a good guy, didn't she? Sarah had no reason to leave this house.

Puck suddenly realized, that he really hadn't thought this through. There were so many ifs and maybes, that it was almost impossible for this plan to work. Back at the football field it had all seemed easy: get Sarah, get out. Nothing more. It had seemed _so_ easy, that he'd asked himself why he hadn't done it before… like, two years ago. But he had never had a reason to believe that there was someone willing to help him either.

Now there was.

Involving Finn, of course, was a bit risky, but Sarah knew Finn, and Puck felt more comfortable this way. But it still left a lot of explaining for him to do, if they should ever get there.

Maybe he should send Finn a warning or something, a text message to let him know that he was coming? But what if something went wrong, if he couldn't make it, or Sarah said no?

Better not jinx it.

So, no message for Finn.

Puck sat back down on his bed, once again staring at the door. At least Danny hadn't bothered him tonight. They seemed to be "okay" for the moment… which meant that Puck practically didn't exist until Danny decided otherwise.

The phone started ringing again, and he didn't know why, but this time, he picked up.

"Puck? You're alright?"

"Who's this?", Puck asked, trying to ignore the panic in the other one's voice.

"Will Schuester."

_Interesting._

"How did you get this number?" It wasn't really important, but Puck just didn't know what else to say.

"Finn gave it to me.", Mr. Schue said quickly, trying to get over the formalities. "Where the hell are you?"

"At home. Where else would I be?" Puck knew that it was a stupid question to ask, that the way he'd left the office would lead anyone to make the wildest guesses about his whereabouts. But he just couldn't help it.

"I saw you at the football field earlier, and I just thought that-" The teacher fell silent for a few moments, not sure how to end that sentence. "- that you would let me help you."

"I did. I mean, I will..." Puck tried to keep his voice steady. "Could you... I mean, I've lost the truck..." This was awful. Even now, after all the things he'd already revealed, after everything that had happened inside that office, he still couldn't get himself to ask for help. As if someone - something - was still holding him back, trying to prevent him from going through with the plan.

This was stupid. They would never make it without a car.

Puck closed his eyes and let the words slip over his lips. "We could really use a ride, you know?"

"I'll be there!"

_So, this was it. The point of no return._


	14. Red as blood

**Red as blood**

"What did he say? Is he alright? Where is he?" Finn couldn't help the words stumbling out of his mouth. This whole day, this whole _thing_, was just freaking him out, big time.

"He's at home." Will had hung up the phone and looked over at the teenager sitting on his couch. Finn seemed out of his mind with worry, and he didn't even know what was really going on. Will just couldn't tell him. But he hadn't been able to turn down his help, either.

After Will had seen Puck standing at the football field, staring into the snow, he'd gone back in, had held his classes, had had lunch… calming down. Slowly. Waiting for Puck to straighten out his thoughts, to come see him again.

But he'd never showed.

And by the time the rehearsal had started, the worry had been back, preventing him from concentrating on anything else. They had all felt it, each and every one of the students had felt that something was wrong. But they hadn't asked, as if they knew that it wasn't his place to tell them. Will hadn't even noticed the time rushing by, and all of a sudden, he'd been standing at the piano. Alone. At least he'd thought that he was alone. And then Finn had been standing next to him, saying something that the teacher hadn't been able to make out just then. It hadn't been until Finn had practically been pleading for answers, that Will had realized, that he couldn't do this alone, that he would never find Puck on his own.

So… that's how they had ended up at Will's apartment. At 11 pm.

"And that's where you should be going, too.", he added, when his eyes fell on his watch.

"Yeah, right… as if I'd be able to sleep right now." Finn got off the couch, no longer able to sit still.

"We found him, that's all I agreed for you to help me with. The rest is none of your concern!"

"STOP IT!" Finn hadn't meant to start yelling, but this whole thing was already beyond terrifying. And not knowing what it was all about made it even worse. "I might've been okay with you not telling me what's going on, but… Puck's my best friend… or used to be… or whatever. And I won't just… stand by when he's in trouble. And you freakin' out this entire time… it scares the hell out of me! I just need to do something… anything…" Finn's voice was shaking. "Please… let me help."

"No… Finn, you-" But Will didn't have any strength left to fight right now. So he gave in. "We'll pick him up at home.", he said after a while, hoping, that Finn wouldn't ask him why. Which, of course, was stupid, because… who wouldn't ask?

"Wait… what?" Finn stared at him, confusion written all over his face.

"We're gonna drive over there and pick him - them - up. So, you can come with me, if you want to, or I'll drive you home right now. Your choice."

"But-"

"Finn, this is no time for discussions. You wanted in, now you're in. Just tell me what's it gonna be!" The urgency in Will's voice was alarming, and Finn couldn't understand why his teacher was in such a hurry, until…

"Wait… does this… I mean…", he blurted out, while his mind tried to process the thoughts rushing through his head. And then it dawned on him, all the pieces suddenly falling into place.

"This has something to do with that Danny guy, hasn't it?" The confusion drained off his face, as the realization slowly pushed through the surface of his mind. "He's not the good guy he pretends to be, is he?"

The teacher shook his head. "No. He's not."

"But… that's not possible! That's-" Finn couldn't even find the right words, as the memories came crawling back, the images floating before his eyes: The bruises on his face, his throat, the injured hand… and that was just the last week. There had been so many more, so many fights he supposedly had been in.

So many lies.

"Please… tell me, that it's not true." Finn's voice trailed off as he looked over at Mr. Schue, hoping for some kind of reassurance, for a sign, that this was just in his head… that it wasn't real. But the teacher didn't say anything, because there was nothing he could say.

Mr. Schue picked up his keys and went for the door.

"We need to go."

But Finn was still lost in his thoughts, not able to understand, what all of this really meant… or why Puck hadn't told him anything about this.

"Finn… we need to leave. Now!"

"Hm…?" Finn's head snapped up, as he slowly found his way back to reality. "Right." A dark and twisted reality, where his best friend had gone through hell and no one had seen it.

They got into the car a few minutes later, and drove off, out of the parking garage, and into the night.

"So… that's what he told you about today?" Finn asked, although he already knew the answer to that. It all made sense now. Puck storming off, the teacher freaking out like that…

Mr. Schue just nodded, not able to say anything, just trying to concentrate on what was lying ahead.

Finn stared out of the side window, into the snow whirling through the air. This just was'n right. Things like this weren't supposed to happen. He had always known, that Puck's family wasn't perfect, that his mom behaved a little strange from time to time. Though, he hadn't been over there very often, knew, that Puck didn't want him to see all that. But Finn had thought that it had gotten better, what with his mom being happy with her new boyfriend and all. But they hadn't been talking for quite some time, and even before that whole baby-gate thing, they had never really talked about family problems or things like that. Guys don't talk about that stuff… right?

He just wished they had.

Wished, that Puck would've told him when it had started.

When had it started anyway?

Finn tried to remember the first time Puck had told him about his mom's new boyfriend. It had been a year. A whole year.

No… not a year.

Puck had told him about that guy a year ago, but his mom had been seeing him for a lot longer.

Finn closed his eyes, trying to get those haunting images out of his mind. All that time, and Puck had never - not once - asked him for help. Granted, they both weren't the 'asking-for-help'-kind of guys, or the type of guys that would willingly admit that they had a problem, or do anything that would make them appear weak in front of the other.

But this…

This wasn't some easily-handled teenager problem, that would be forgotten by the same time a week later. This was huge. This was the kind of thing that brought kids to the grave. This was the kind of thing that no one - absolutely no one - should have to deal with on their own.

The sirens suddenly howling through the night hurled Finn out of his thoughts.

Mr. Schue slowed down and let them drive by, the flashing blue lights turning left at the next corner while they kept going straight.

Finn let out a deep breath, glad that the ambulance had taken another way. He looked back out of the window, stared at the houses passing by in the dark, all that snow making it almost impossible to recognize anything. But something felt wrong about this. He hadn't been here in a while, but…

Finn couldn't even finish that though, his heart skipping out a few beats.

"Mr. Schue…" His voice was shaking, slightly. This wasn't possible, right? It was just some trick the snow was playing on his mind. "Mr. Schue…"

"What?" The teacher hadn't taken his eyes of the street.

"I… I think we should've…" He couldn't say it. Couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. If you're not saying it, it isn't true, right? Right?

Wrong.

"We should've turned left… like... like the ambulance did."

"Ok… I'll just turn around. No need to panic." But his voice betrayed his words.

Mr. Schue turned the car around, slowly, and took a right turn, hoping desperately, that the blue lights had driven on into another street, that they wouldn't be there when they'd get around the next corner.

But they were. Flashing through the night, carving ghastly shadows into the ground.

* * *

He was walking through the snow. Just… walking. Setting one foot in front of the other.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Who'd come up with that anyway? Who had decided which side was left, and which one was right?

Left.

Right.

The snow was whirling around him, getting caught in his hair, on his clothes. He should be freezing, shouldn't he? It must be pretty cold for it to snow like this. When had it even started snowing? Had it been like this the whole day?

Left.

Right.

Left.

He didn't feel the cold, though, as if it didn't even exist. And maybe it didn't. Maybe it was all just some kind of illusion. Maybe none of it was real. Or why was it, that he didn't feel anything - except that all-consuming emptiness, that growing black hole, that threatened to swallow everything he was…

Right.

Left.

Ringing.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Ringing. Again.

What the hell was that?

Left.

He looked down at the phone in his hand. Had it been there the whole time? He couldn't remember picking it up, or taking it in his hand. Where had it come from?

Right.

Left.

He put the phone to his ear. Words stumbled through his head, but none of them ever left his lips.

"Puck?"

He didn't recognize the voice. Didn't recognize the name. What kind of name was that anyway? Who would call himself that?

Puck.

It was familiar, though. Somehow.

Right.

"Yeah…?" So he hadn't forgotten how to speak. But he hadn't intended to say that. How can you say something without wanting to say it? Was that even possible? It seemed to be true, though. He had to be the one asked for, right?

If anything, it_ felt_ right…

Left.

Right.

"Thank God! I thought you were… I…" The voice on the other end was shaking, filled with panic, and worry, and concern, and all kinds of emotions that didn't seem to fit… that weren't possible… because he didn't deserve any of them. Never had. "I… I mean… we came to get you… and there was-"

"Who's this?"

"Will… Schuester…"

Right.

"Who?" This was funny, wasn't it? The other guy seemed to know who he was, while he had absolutely no idea. Talking to a stranger. That's something new.

Left.

Right.

Wasn't there something parents were supposed to tell their kids about that? That you should never talk to strangers? But he wasn't a kid anymore… was he?

Left.

Didn't feel like it. But thinking about parents somehow made him feel sad… and scared. He just didn't know why.

"Mr. Schue…", the other one tried again.

Still nothing. Reminded him that he wasn't wearing any shoe's, though.

Right.

Left.

Or was he? Who would go out into this kind of weather without any shoes? That would be downright stupid, wouldn't it? But maybe he just wasn't the smartest guy in the world.

Right.

Left.

Right.

"Puck… are you alright?"

Was he alright?

He couldn't feel any pain or something, so it should be a "yes". But then again… wandering through the snow in the middle of the night? It had to be the middle of the night, right? It was dark, it was cold… definitely nighttime. Still left the question what he was doing here. Why he was out here.

But trying to find an answer just made his head hurt.

"Don't think so…", was all he got out after a while.

"Where are you?"

That was another very good question.

Left.

"No idea…" His voice sounded stoic.

Stoic. Was that even a word? S - t - o - i - c.

Strange.

"Are you at Finn's? Because Finn's with me right now…"

Enough with the names already!

Right.

Left.

"Puck, are you at Finn's house?" The other sounded really alarmed.

He stopped walking, looked around. Didn't seem like he was at a house… or even standing in front of one. Nope, no houses here.

"Don't think so…"

"What do you mean, you don't think-… forget that. Tell me what you see."

"Snow. Lots of it. Kinda cold out here." He was shivering. Had he done that the whole time? Where had the cold suddenly come from?

Oh… right… it had been there the whole time. He just hadn't felt it before.

"That's not helping. Do you see any street signs?"

He looked around. Street signs…

"I think I'm on West Elm Street."

How fitting. Nightmare on Elm Street. Great movie.

Hadn't turned out so well for the characters, though.

"You think?"

"Yeah…"

"Alright… We'll come and get you. Just stay where you are, okay?"

No point in arguing with that.

The phone slipped out of his hand, fell into the snow. He didn't even notice. He just stood there, waiting. He wondered what time it was. It didn't really matter, but it would definitely be interesting to know. Just to make sure that it was still going forward.

Then he started walking again. Standing around just made him realize how bad this weather really was.

Left.

Right.

Just keep going.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Hadn't that guy said something about staying where he was?

Right.

Left.

Probably.

Right.

But who was he to tell him what to do? Who was he anyway?

He stopped when a car drove up beside him, as if in slow motion, and then it stopped. Just like that.

The driver didn't turn off the headlamps when he got out of the car. He could hear him say something, that sounded like _'stay in the car'_… but he couldn't be too sure about that.

He just stared at the snow whirling through the air in front of the car, glistering in the light.

"Puck…?"

There it was again. That name.

The man walked over to him, carefully, as if he was afraid…

But he still couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful, white snow.

"Puck… Look at me…"

So beautiful. So innocent.

"LOOK AT ME."

His head snapped up, his eyes meeting with a worried face. Why was that guy yelling at him?

He hadn't done anything wrong.

"What happened?" The voice was steady, but he could hear the panic lying underneath.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

"Please… tell me, what happened." The man was pleading… begging for an answer.

And he just couldn't give one.

He searched his mind, desperately trying to remember, to prevent that guy from yelling at him again.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

"I -… I don't know… I- I can't remember…"

Why couldn't he remember? What was he even doing out here?

He hadn't done anything wrong.

"You -… You're bleeding…" The man's voice was shaking.

He could feel a hand on his right arm and winced at the sudden flash of pain running through his body. It didn't make any sense. It hadn't been there before.

"Damn it, Puck… you're bleeding all over the place…"

He turned his head, followed the man's gaze, and his eyes met with something rather curious.

Someone hat obviously dropped a lot of paint. Bright. Red. Paint.

He looked at his arm, then back at the red trail in the white snow.

No. Not paint.

Blood.

_His_ blood.

But that couldn't be right.

He would know if he'd gotten hurt.

He would feel it.

Would feel the pain.

But there was nothing.

Just…

Nothing.

He stared back at his arm, at the blood oozing out of the wound on his shoulder, his eyes wandering over the sleeve of his shirt, to the blood dripping down from his hand, his fingers, into the white snow…

And then he remembered.

All of it.

"She's gone, isn't she?"


	15. The darkest hour

**The darkest hour  
**

_And then he remembered._

_All of it._

* * *

"Sarah?", he asked and quietly closed the door.

"Hm…?"

"You're awake?" He slowly walked over to her bed, trying not to startle her.

"Noah? That you…?" Her voice sounded sleepy, and slightly confused.

"Yeah…" Puck sat down and switched on the lamp on her nightstand. The sudden light blinded her and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"What are you doing here? It's dark outside…" She seemed tired, still not entirely awake.

"We're going on a vacation, sis… just you and me.", he said with a smile.

"In the middle of the night?" She yawned and sat up.

"Yeah… it's an adventure. Like in one of your books…" Puck knew that they didn't have much time, but he had to convince her, needed her to come with him voluntarily.

"Stories aren't real, Noah…", she said, before she turned her head away and stared at the window. "None of them are…" It was barely more than a whisper, but it made Puck's heart skip a few beats. It almost sounded like…

But... that wasn't possible.

She looked at him again, tears running down her pale face, and he realized, that his little sister had seen more than she should.

"I know that he's not just yelling at you…" Her voice was frail, and in the dim light he could see the pain in her eyes. "I know that he hurts you."

Puck closed his eyes… wished, that she hadn't said that.

"I'm sorry…" Her voice was thick with tears, her body shaking with every sob. "I'm so sorry…"

He took her in his arms, holding her, like he had so many times since their dad had left. He had taken care of her for as long as he could remember, had made sure that she had nothing to worry about except growing up and being happy… had tried to protect her from all the evil in this world.

And he had failed.

He had failed to protect her from this, from seeing the evil in their own home.

Puck had no idea, how long she'd known. And it didn't matter. Every minute - no, every second, that she had to deal with this, was one too many. The mere thought of her witnessing her own brother getting hurt… it made him sick. And even worse: She was apologizing to him - to _him_ - the one person whose job it was to look out for her.

"It's gonna be okay." It was the only comfort he could give her now, the promise, that it would be over soon, that it was going to end.

They just sat there, the little girl and her brother, who had nothing left but each other, holding on to this moment, as if they were afraid that the world could break into pieces, if they would let it go. And although he didn't want to, although he just wanted to be with her, to be there for her… Puck finally let go. And the moment slipped away, as if it had never even existed.

"We need to go."

She didn't answer, didn't even look at him. She wiped away the tears before she got off the bed and pulled a bag out from under it.

"What's that?", he asked, not entirely sure what to make of this.

"I packed it some time ago… I just…" She fell silent for a moment, the tears starting to well up again. "I just never had the courage to tell you…"

Puck didn't know what to say to that, feeling somehow overwhelmed by her words. She shouldn't have to say things like that… shouldn't have to feel guilty about being afraid. She was just a little girl. She shouldn't have to be brave for her big brother.

It wasn't right.

_He _was supposed to be the strong one.

"Let's get out of here…", he said after a while, and picked up her jacket from the chair at her desk, motioning for her to put it over her pajamas, before he went to the door, taking a peek. But there was no one out there. Wverything was dark and silent.

"Something wrong?", he asked, when he realized, that Sarah was still standing next to her bed, that she hadn't followed him to the door.

She just stood there, somehow lost in her own room. "I'm scared."

"Me, too." He walked over to her, holding out his hand. "But it's gonna be okay. I promise!"

And Sarah picked up her bag and took his hand, hoping, that he would guide her out of this house… out of this nightmare.

But instead, he led her right into the battlefield.

Puck didn't know if it was just a coincidence, or if Danny had been waiting for them, and he really couldn't care less, because it didn't change the fact, that the lights in the corridor were turned on before they could even get to the stairs.

"And where do you think you're going…?" Danny was leaning against the wall, a vicious smile on his face.

"We're leaving!" Puck's voice was steady, the decision to leave finally giving him back the strength that Danny had taken away from him.

"Oh… you are? I'm just asking, because I can't remember giving you permission to leave." He took a few steps away from the wall, blocking their only way of escape.

"We don't need your permission! We don't need anything from you." Puck stared at Danny, and for some unknown reason, he wasn't scared of the Boogieman anymore. For the first time, he was willing to fight for his freedom.

"So you drag your little sister out into the night… and then what? You have no car, no place to go…"

"That's where you're wrong." He could feel the weakness and helplessness leaving his body with every word coming over his lips. And the slightly confused expression on Danny's face made it even better. Puck couldn't remember the last time he had felt this strong inside this house.

It had been years.

Almost a lifetime.

"You could probably crash at Finn's place for the night… I give you that. But what about tomorrow? And the day after that? Have you even thought about that before you woke up your sister in the middle of the night?", Danny asked, trying to maintain the upper hand. But his confidence had obviously taken a surprise hit. "Of course, you haven't. You're not able to think that far ahead. Never were." The smile was back on Danny's face.

"Oh… okay. Maybe I haven't. But since you don't seem to have a problem with us staying at Finn's for the night, we should keep going… we wouldn't want to keep him waiting, now, would we?" Puck made a few steps towards Danny… but Danny didn't move an inch.

"I said _No_!"

"And I'm not listening to you anymore… so get out of the way!" He took another step, desperately trying to get past the man who had done nothing but ruin his life ever since he'd set foot into their home.

"Oh, but you will!" The malice in Danny's voice made Puck stop in his tracks, and he could feel Sarah's hand shaking in his own. "I won't stop _you_, Noah… you can go out there and freeze to death, for all I care. But you're not taking her with you!"

"I'm not leaving _without_ her." His voice was calm, but the anger was there, hidden beneath the words. "And since when do you let me leave whenever I want? Last time I checked, you always seem to make me do the exact opposite of what I _want_ to do. You drag me home if I run away, you throw me out, if I sneak in… or you just beat the crap out of me for no good reason." The anger was boiling up, the frustration clawing its way to the surface. "What did I do to you, that you hate me that much?"

"It's not what you did. It's your mere existence!"

Puck just stood there, the words not able to reach his mind. "What?"

"Your sorry excuse of a father… He might've left you, left this house, but he's never really gone. You just look so much like him, reminding your mother over and over again, that she's lost the love of her life. Before I got here, she spent almost every day drowning her sorrows in as much liquor as she could find… and I _saved _her from that! _I _took care of her. But even after two years, all it takes is one look at you, and an hour later I find her crying, telling me, that I would never be able to replace him." Danny was talking himself into a rage, an soon, there would be no way of ever getting him out of it again. "As long as you're still here, _he _is still here. I would've sent you out on the street a long time ago, but whenever you're gone, she gets really upset after a while, and I have to let you back in. But if you leave on your own, leave her like your deadbeat father did… maybe she will finally realize, that you're no better than him."

Puck had enough, couldn't listen to this anymore. He tightened his grip on Sarah's hand and walked past Danny, who hadn't really noticed that he wasn't blocking the corridor anymore. He noticed them trying to leave, though, and grabbed for Sarah's arm, Puck already being out of reach.

"You're not leaving with her.", he said once again.

"And I'm _not_ going without her!"

"Then I guess you're not going at all."

They could've gone on like this for hours… for days, even. But Puck suddenly realized, that he'd dragged his little sister into a fight that she didn't belong in… and let go of her hand.

"Go back to your room. I'll get you later!", he said as calm as possible, never leaving Danny out of his sight.

"No! I want to go with you. I'm not staying with him!"

"You won't. I promised, remember?" He looked at her, trying to convince her to leave, before his eyes darted back to Danny.

Sarah turned around, freeing her arm out of Danny's hand, and took a few steps towards her door.

"And now what? You wanna fight me?" The vicious smile was back on Danny's face, his confidence restored… for now. "Because, the last time you tried, I had to take you to the hospital in Bluffton…"

"Oh… I apologize for the inconvenience. Maybe you just shouldn't have stomped on my hand. Would've saved you the trip!" Puck didn't know, if he really had a chance… if he could win tonight, but this, right here, finally doing something… it just felt so good. And the thought, that there was actually someone coming for him, taking him away from here, made it even better.

Danny's hand hit his face with so much force, that it nearly took him off his feet. Puck hadn't expected that, hadn't heard the bell that had started the fight. He tried balling his right hand into a fist, to get some payback, but he had almost forgotten about the bandage still wrapped around his fingers. He tried to rip it away, to get that damn thing off of his hand… but the fabric had barely left his skin, before the second hit threw him off balance. He could feel the pain spreading on his face, the blood dripping down his skin… but he didn't care.

This was going to end… right now!

He turned around, about to throw himself at the man, who had made his life a living hell… before his eyes fell on the little girl standing between them, her back turned towards her brother, as she was holding Danny's arm with both of her hands, desperately trying to prevent him from throwing another punch.

"Stop it… you're hurting him…"

Puck could hear the panic in her voice, the fear in each of her words… and Danny did, too, but he wasn't going to let that make a difference.

"He doesn't deserve any better!" And with that, Danny pulled his arm free and pushed her aside. Sarah stumbled to the ground and cried out in pain, when her head hit the wall.

"Sarah…" Puck tried to get to her, but Danny shoved him away. "She needs help!"

"And whose fault is that?" There was a strange look on Danny's face… something, some emotion, that Puck had never seen before. And it scared the hell out of him. He looked over at his sister. She was crying, holding a hand to her head.

Then he saw the blood running through her small fingers, and something in his head snapped.

He darted forward, throwing Danny off his feet. He didn't even feel the pain in his shoulder when they hit the ground… he just wanted to hurt the guy, to inflict as much pain as possible. His right hand balled into a fist, and before he even knew what he was doing, his knuckles connected with Danny's face…

He pulled his arm back, getting more force behind the next hit, all the rage and anger finding their way into his hand as his fist went down again…

Puck could feel the desperation escaping his body with every hit, with every moan escaping Danny's mouth... and he kept hitting him, again and again… until it was gone, until all the hate had drained away.

And then he stopped. Just… stopped… as a strange, overwhelming feeling of liberation, of freedom, took over his mind. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, as the ease rushed through his veins. He could feel his hands shaking… no, not just his hands… his whole body was shaking, as the adrenaline slipped away.

This was it. This was the finish line. The end.

He had won.

It was finally over.

Puck took a deep breath and got back to his feet. His knees felt week, and for a moment he feared, that they would give out under him. But they didn't. He took the few steps towards his sister, a hint of a smile on his lips. They were going to leave. Forever!

"You okay?", he asked, as he kneed down beside her.

She nodded, still too afraid to say something.

"Let me take a look at that…" He gently pulled away the hand that she had still pressed against her head, the worry back on his face. It was merely a scratch, didn't even bleed anymore, but it was bad enough. It never should've happened.

"You think you can get up?"

She nodded, again, and the fear on her face was soon replaced by relief, as she realized, that her brother was really getting her out of here.

And then, all of a sudden, something changed… her eyes suddenly filling with terror. Puck didn't even have the time to realize, that anything was wrong, before someone pulled him away from her. He was hurled around, completely loosing orientation when he crashed into the wall. His legs didn't have any strength left, as he slumped to the ground. He couldn't move, couldn't think, his heart racing, about to burst out of his chest.

"GET UP… GET UP, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT…" Danny's voice was roaring through the air, but Puck wasn't able to look at him, wasn't able to see the hatred on the man's face or the madness in those piercing blue eyes. "GET. UP."

Puck couldn't even really process, what was going on. He was pulled back to his feet, slammed into the wall… something hit him in the face, in the stomach, the ribs… and then he was on the floor again, on his hand and knees, desperately trying to figure out, which side was up and which was down. But he never found out, never had enough time to think a single thought, before something hit his side… and a moment later, Puck was lying on the floor, his arms covering his face, waiting for the next hit… the next wave of pain.

But he wasn't ready for this. Could never have been ready for this. For the excruciating pain running through his chest, crawling over his ribs, as each kick made his body scream in agony, making the whole world, his whole existence disappear.

Puck felt himself slipping away, the darkness pulling at his mind, and he knew, that he couldn't hold on much longer. There was just nothing left to hold on to. Reality had become unbearable, making the shadows waiting for him, calling his name, more seductive with every second, every moment passing by.

He couldn't see the little girl getting on her feet again, couldn't hear the voices getting louder, the words filling the air… hadn't even noticed, that he'd been left lying on the floor, withering in pain.

But he heard the scream.

The high-pitched scream that drove the shadows away from him, that pulled him back into reality.

He opened his eyes, saw the fear on her face, tried to get back on his feet, before it was too late…

But it was already too late.

She was already falling.

And then…

Silence.

Dead silence.

Puck couldn't move. Couldn't even think about moving. Everything just stood still as if the world had stopped turning, as if time had seized to exist. He stared down at her small body lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs, at the blood slowly pooling around her head. His feet took the first step, his mind no longer capable to control his movements, to even hold a single thought. He walked down the stairs, his eyes fixed on his little sister as he kneed down beside her. His hand was shaking as he stroke a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers touching her pale skin while the rest of the world melted away.

She looked so peaceful.

As if she was just sleeping.

As if she could wake up any moment.

Someone else was screaming.

Yelling.

A women. Maybe.

He didn't know. Didn't care.

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, running towards them, and someone tried to pull him away from her. But he couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let anyone take them apart.

She was all he had.

She meant everything to him.

Everything.

Without her, he was nothing.

But he didn't have any strength left to fight. All the hope he might've had was gone.

Puck found himself standing by the front door, staring down at his mom clinging to her daughter, crying, wailing, her whole body trembling with every sob leaving her lips.

And he couldn't understand any of it.

Just couldn't understand what had happened.

And then a face appeared in front of him, out of nowhere.

"Get. Out."

Puck wasn't even able to understand those two simple words anymore, had forgotten their meaning.

"GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!"

As if in a trance, he opened the door and went out into the snow. Walked away. Just like that.

Loosing a little bit more of himself with every step.

Until he couldn't even remember who he was.


	16. Dark soul

**Dark soul**

"She's gone, isn't she…?"

The memories pulled him away. Just for a moment. Pulled him out of the snow, out of the cold, seducing him, whispering unheard promises that would never be fulfilled… before they threw him back into reality, choked him out, leaving him with nothing but a single thought. A single feeling.

Guilt.

"It's my fault… it's all my fault…" It was just a whisper, barely a breeze of air, lost in the snow. The words weren't meant for anyone to hear. Weren't meant to leave his lips.

He could feel the nausea building up in his stomach, that sickening feeling taking over his body, the weakness finding its way back in.

Puck turned away, stumbled, as his knees started quivering, giving out under his weight. His hands touched the ground, the cold numbing his fingers as the white snow turned red from the blood on his skin. And then he threw up… threw up what little food he had in his stomach. He started coughing, his insides almost choking him, before he threw up again. Violent shivers took over his body, robbing him of what little strength he still had. But he couldn't stop, couldn't stop the nausea from rising up again, until there was nothing left… until all he did was spitting out bile.

He felt a hand on his back, as someone was squatting right next to him, but whoever it was, Puck just couldn't look at him, couldn't bring himself to look the man into the eyes… couldn't bear the thought, that someone could get a glimpse at the darkness that was eating him alive.

"I-… I pro-promised. I… I promised to get her out of there… that it would be okay…" He didn't know when he had started crying, hadn't noticed the tears running down his face. They were just there, in his voice, in his eyes, blurring his vision, causing reality to disappear, to melt away.

"And she fell down the stairs…" He didn't say it to someone in particular, didn't need the words to be heard. They just hung in the air, floating in front of him, before they disappeared into the darkness. And then, Puck turned his head, staring at the man who was right next to him, stared at the worried face, into those kind eyes. "It's not fair…" His voice was thick with tears, trembling, as he tried to hold on to that face, to hold on to this moment.

"It's not fair…"

The face slipped away, his grip on reality failing, as he turned his head away, his voice trailing off into the night.

"_I promised…"_

Puck kneed in the snow, the cold slowly finding its way through his clothes, crawling over his skin, as he stared into the never-ending darkness that was lying ahead. There was no new way in front of him, not even a tiny footpath that he could follow. He'd hit a dead end while the road that had led him there was falling apart behind him.

There was no way back.

He was trapped.

"Just… go. Please…" It was all he could say. All that was left. He just didn't want anyone to witness these last steps… to see him lying on the ground. Defeated.

But the man didn't leave. It even seemed as if he was trying to tell him something, but Puck wasn't listening, wasn't interested in any comforting words the teacher might have to offer. There was nothing that could ever make this right… that could ever make this go away.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Puck hadn't intended to yell, but he just didn't know any other way to get it out, couldn't think of anything else that would make that man go away.

Will closed his eyes, as the words reached his ears, before he opened his mouth to try again, but even before the words entered his mind, before they could even attempt to leave his lips, he knew, that Puck wasn't going to hear anything he had to say… no matter how important it might be. So he got off the ground and went back to the car. Finn was walking towards him, meeting him halfway, and it was obvious from the expression on his face, that the teenager was worried out of his mind.

"What's going on…? Did you tell him? Why's he still sitting there…?", he blurted out, the eyes fixed on his friend.

"I tried… but he didn't listen…" The defeat was evident in the teacher's voice.

"But… he needs to know!" Finn's voice was getting louder.

"I know that! But in his current state… he's not going to hear a word I say…"

"So… you just wanna let him sit there by himself? It's killing him…"

"I know, that's why-"

"Have you even looked at him? There's blood... a lot… and he, like, puked his guts out… he needs to be at a hospital or something… not out h-"

"FINN, STOP IT!" Will didn't want to cut him off, to sound so harsh, but he was already close enough to having a panic attack. He really didn't need his student to freak out right now. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know how serious this is? He needs help, and soon… but we can't just drag him to the car and stuff him on the back seat…" Will's hand was shaking slightly as he ran it through his hair. "He needs help… and I can't give it to him."

Finn stared at his teacher, a strange mixture of confusion and concern on his face. "What?"

But Will had already taken out his cell phone.

Finn let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd thought, that the teacher had given up, that he might even leave… which was a really scary thought. But Finn knew, that Mr. Schue would never do something like that.

Finn didn't listen to the call his teacher made, it didn't really matter, at least not at this moment. His eyes were fixed on his friend, who was still sitting on the same spot Mr. Schue had left him at a few minutes ago. Puck was staring at something that Finn couldn't see… something that hid in the darkness, that would never reveal itself to anyone else.

Finn took a few steps toward his friend, had this urge to talk to him, to comfort him, but as much as he wanted to, as much as he tried to find something to say, he just couldn't find the right words. He had never seen Puck like this. Never. And somehow, he was afraid…

He couldn't explain it, couldn't explain that strange feeling in his stomach. It was just there, holding him back, preventing him from taking the last few steps, from sitting down next to Puck.

This morning, the worst thing he'd thought of, was, that Puck had gotten himself into some trouble that might sent him back to juvie… and over the last few hours, he'd found out, that his former best friend had been going through hell for the last two years. And Finn just didn't know how to handle it.

So he stood there, next to his friend, because he had no idea what else to do.

"You need to go to the hospital, man…" It was all he could say, the only thing that seemed important right now, the only thing that was easy enough to get over his lips. There were other things he wanted to say, so many questions he should've asked a long time ago. But he hadn't. He'd always listened to Puck's stories, and even if he hadn't believed some of them at first, Puck had somehow convinced him every time.

In the end, Finn had always believed the lies, had always looked the other way.

They all had.

Puck hadn't noticed that anything had changed, that Mr. Schue had left him or that Finn was standing next to him. He hadn't even noticed the jacket his teacher had put around his shoulders that kept at least some of the cold away from his body. He had forgotten that there was a whole world surrounding him, that there was something called time, that was passing by.

He was somewhere else. Stranded. Lost. Alone.

Whatever happened next, he only caught bits and pieces of it. There were people, somewhere around him, in front of him, next to him, and they were talking. But he couldn't say if they were talking _to _him or _about _him… maybe they weren't talking after all. He had just no idea what was going on. All he could see disappeared into a blur that came along with a strange humming noise somewhere in the back of his head, while he was staring at the same spot for as long as he could remember… beyond that, there was nothing. Just emptiness.

And suddenly, it was gone, left him, like everything else had left him… or maybe he had left it behind. Maybe he had gone somewhere else.

But that didn't make any sense.

He lifted his head, just to make sure, and stared into an unfamiliar face. The young woman said something, at least her lips were moving, but it took a lot longer for her words to reach him.

And even then, he didn't know what they meant. They were ripped into pieces, depriving them of any meaning they might've had.

…_name…know…are…_

He could feel the pain crawling back into his shoulder, slowly pulling him back into the world that he'd left behind… and he noticed, that the women was no longer looking at him, but looking him over. And there was this odd light directed at his eyes. Just for a moment. Before he heard her voice again.

"Can you tell me your name?"

It was a weird question. And she said it in a weird way, too. Matter-of-factly… as though he could score points if he'd answered it right.

_My name…_

It _was_ a weird question. No, a _stupid_ question, because you have to be really stupid not to know your name… right?

But if it was such a stupid question… why didn't he just answer it? Why didn't he just say his name? It was easy. He just had to open his mouth and say it.

Just… say it.

"Noah… Noah Puckerman…"

_Stories aren't real, Noah… none of them are…_

His sister's voice reached his ears even though the words had left her lips so long ago, that it almost felt like a lifetime… although it hadn't been more than a few hours. Or less. He just couldn't tell anymore. The only thing he knew for sure, was, that he would never hear that voice again.

Never.

"Can you tell me, what happened?"

Puck had trailed off into his thoughts, hadn't noticed, that the women was still talking to him. But although he heard the question, although he knew the answer to it… he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth again, to relive the worst moment of his life. So he just shook his head, hoping, that it would make her go away.

But it didn't. She stayed with him. For whatever reason.

Everything after that was lost somewhere on the way, disappeared from his mind as soon as it happened… was forgotten before he could even try to remember.


	17. Coming home

**Coming home**

It was late. Very late. Far too late, when Finn finally closed the front door behind him. He'd told Kurt that he'd come home late, that he should cover for him, but while the afternoon had stretched into the evening and the night, and the slight worry had grown into a full-blown panic… well, he'd just forgotten to tell him that it would be a lot later than he'd first thought.

He half expected his mom and Burt to be waiting for him, but the house was dark and quiet… and Finn was thankful for that. He just didn't want to talk about this right now, especially not with them.

So he went down to the basement as silently as possible, and sat down on his bed. He was glad to finally be home, to get some distance from all the things that had happened today.

Finn jerked when the light was suddenly switched on, and when he looked up, Kurt was sitting across from him, probably had been sitting there when he'd come in.

"It's late…" Kurt seemed angry. Somehow. But Finn had never been very good at reading expressions, so he couldn't be entirely sure about that.

"Yeah… I should really get some sleep…"

"Not before you've told my, why I bought Carole and my dad movie tickets and invited them to have dinner on my cost, so I could tell them that you were already asleep when they got home."

Finn looked at him, slightly confused.

"It wasn't cheap, and I hope for your sake that I didn't do it just so you could hook up with Rachel…"

Finn still didn't answer as he tried to figure out what to say to that.

"You're unbelievable, Finn. When you told me to cover for you, I actually thought that there was a good reason for you to come home so late. And I got worried, because it kept getting later and you didn't show up. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer and-"

"Can we do this, like, tomorrow or something? I'm really tired and… I got stuff I have to think about."

"That's all? You have 'stuff' to think about? Let me tell you this, Finn Hudson, I might have-" Kurt fell silent for a second, as something on Finn's shirt suddenly caught his eyes. "Is that... is that blood?"

"Huh…?" Finn looked down, at the red stains covering his sleeves. This was odd. He couldn't even remember how that had gotten there.

"Your hands are shaking…", Kurt added, as he took in Finn's appearance.

Finn stared at his hands, somewhat fascinated by the violent shivers running through them. It just scared him, that he couldn't control them anymore. "Yeah… they've been doing that for a while now… can't really seem to make them stop."

Kurt was suddenly squatting in front of him, an expression on his face that Finn had never seen on him before.

"Tell me what happened.", he said, his voice calm and steady.

Finn looked at him, distraught, countless thoughts rushing through his mind. "Dude… stop freaking me out here." He tried to give him a hint of a smile, but failed. Though, it was probably better this way. Smiling just isn't very convincing when you still can't stop your hands from shaking.

Kurt still looked at him, worry written all over his face. "Finn, seriously… what happened?"

"I can't tell you… I- I can't." His voice was trembling, slightly, as he tried to convince himself, that it was better not to start talking about it.

"Can't or won't?" Kurt got back to his feet, somwhat disappointed by Finn's lack of cooperation.

"It's not that simple… I mean, I'm not even supposed to know. I don't think he'd be thrilled if I tell you… that be, like, betraying him or something. And I can't do that to him."

"What are you talking about? Who's 'he'?"

"Puck…" It came over his lips, before he could even think about it, as if something inside him was trying to convince him, that he had to talk about it.

"Did you get into a fight?", Kurt asked.

But Finn didn't answer, didn't know how to explain, what had happened. And Kurt obviously took that as a 'yes'. "I knew it. He's always getting into trouble. Should've seen it coming when he showed up here in the middle of the night. He's been pretty reckless lately."

"What…?" Finn looked up, not entirely sure, if he'd heard right.

"So… what he'd do this time?"

"Why do you think he did anything?" Finn didn't care that he was snapping at Kurt, he just didn't like that Kurt had already assumed that it had been Puck's fault. Though he couldn't really blame him, could he? Puck's relationship with Kurt had been strained… at best. Although you could say that it had almost reached the line of neutrality. But the history was still there, and it didn't exactly shine a good light on the former bully. "Why do you just assume, that he did something wrong?"

Kurt seemed to be at a loss for words. It was obvious that he hadn't expected that kind of answer. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, right. You know, just because Puck used to do stuff to people, doesn't mean that-." Finn stopped for a second, trying to figure out how to end that sentence, before he changed his mind. "Forget it. I know that you two got some history, and I won't try to convince you, that he isn't that guy anymore…"

"You don't have to. I already know that. But the way he's been acting ever since he's gotten out of juvie, and his erratic behavior these past few days…"

"Yeah… I know what it looks like. But…" Finn took a deep breath, not yet sure if he should tell Kurt, or not. "You have no idea what's really going on."

"Then… tell me!"

"I already told you… I can't.", Finn said forcefully, desperately trying to make Kurt understand, that it wasn't his choice.

"Okay…" Kurt held up his hands in defense. "Then don't…" He walked back to his bed and was about to sit down, when he heard Finn's voice again. But it wasn't forceful anymore. It was frail, shaking slightly, as if it wasn't entirely sure, if it should even be there.

"He's at the hospital…" Finn didn't look up, afraid, that he could loose the courage to speak, if he did. "At least, I think he still is… he should be. The ambulance took him and Mr. Schue drove me home before he followed… so… I guess they're still there. I mean… they just got there." Finn had the feeling, that his words didn't make a lot of sense, but he just didn't know where else to start, wasn't even sure, if he could say anything else.

"What… what happened?" Kurt could feel the shock stiffening his body, as he took in Finn's words.

But Finn couldn't even hear his question, as he tried to bring himself to go on. "His sister fell down the stairs… or that guy pushed her… I don't know. And he beat him up pretty bad… was bleeding all over the place… like, a lot. He didn't really say anything… just… puked his guts out…" Finn kept staring at the floor, as if it was the only thing that he could hold on to, while he lost control over the words leaving his lips.

"I mean… I didn't even know that there was something wrong until this a few hours ago… or… at least, nothing like that. And that it's been going on for so long… I just don't understand why he never told anyone…"

"Finn…"

"It's insane…"

"Finn, listen to me…"

"We just believed him, no matter what he said…"

"Finn Hudson!"

"Huh…?" Finn's head snapped up, Kurt's voice suddenly pulling him back to reality.

"What are you talking about…?"

"That Danny guy… you know, the one who was here on Sunday…He's not exactly the type of guy you wanna mess with." Finn could feel that bone crushing weight being lifted off his shoulders, replaced by a strange feeling of ease rushing through his veins as the secret finally got over his lips. He couldn't even imagine how someone could hold on to a secret like that for years, when he hadn't even be able to take it for more than a few hours.

"You mean…" Kurt couldn't even say it, didn't want to say it.

"Yeah…" Finn stared back at the floor, his vision getting somewhat fuzzy.

"But… when that guy was here… he said that he'd been living with them for over two years…"

"He did?" Finn tried to remember the conversation, but when he started to think about that morning, about that man smiling at him when he'd opened the door. If only he'd known what that guy had been doing to his friend back then. He would've punched him in the face instead of letting him in.

"Yes, he did. And that would mean that…" Kurt shook his head, not yet able to grasp the information in its entirety. "Are you sure?" It was a dumb question, and he knew that even before the words had left his lips. But maybe - just maybe - he'd gotten it all wrong, maybe Finn's words didn't mean what he thought they meant.

"Yeah… well, as sure as I'll ever be. It's not like Puck ever told me anything… but he told Mr. Schue this morning, before he ran off."

"But… that's…" Kurt just didn't know what to say. There was nothing he _could_ say.

"I know…"

"So… when he was here on Saturday… all those bruises…?" It all started to make sense.

"Probably…" Finn still didn't look up, as if staring into nothingness would somehow make all of this go away. But it didn't. "No, not probably… definitely…"

"The one on his throat…" Kurt visible flinched just thinking about that, thinking about _how _that bruise must've gotten there. "I- I don't even-" His voice broke off, defeated by the mere thought of the terrors that had been going on in Puck's life.

"Me neither…"

There was a moment of silence, as they both tried to fight off the horrific images, to somehow hold off the truth. But they both knew that they couldn't win that fight.

"What about his mom?", Kurt asked after a while, pushing away the silence hanging between them.

Finn finally broke his stare with the floor and looked up, slightly confused, not sure how the conversation had ended up on that subject. "What about her?"

"Did he hurt her, too?", Kurt added, not sure if he even wanted to go there.

"No… at least, that's what Mr. Schue told me, when I asked. Didn't tell me anything else, though."

"But… did she know that this was going on?" It was a simple enough question, and Kurt wished that he could take it back as soon as the words had left his lips. He didn't want to know the answer to that one… didn't want to know anything else that would most certainly increase that sickening feeling crawling through his stomach.

Finn turned his head away, not able to look the other one in the eyes, not able to say the word. The one word that was the undeniable proof that this nightmare was even worse.

_Yes._

But he didn't need to say it. His reaction was answer enough.

"Oh my…" Kurt wasn't even able to say anything else, as if all the words had somehow left his mind… had lost their meaning.

"She's never really been the perfect mom… I mean, I don't know what's really been going on at their house before that guy got there. The few times I was there, she seemed a little out of it. And she kept insulting him, like he'd done something wrong by coming through the door or something… made me feel really uncomfortable being there, you know? I think, at one time, she was even drunk, and it was, like, ten in the morning… I'm just not sure if she's always been like that or if I only caught her at a bad time or something… we just never talked about stuff like that…" Finn couldn't explain where those words had suddenly come from, hadn't intended to say them, because, for some reason, they made him feel as if he should've known back then that Puck wasn't okay… made him realize, that he could've done something a long time ago.

But then… he hadn't been older than thirteen. He couldn't possibly have been old enough to see the signs, could he? And maybe he told Kurt, because he needed someone to tell him, that he couldn't have done something even if he'd seen it.

But Kurt didn't tell him that… he said something else.

"I never thought that… that I would feel sorry for him… that I even _could _feel sorry for him. I mean… It's been sort of okay ever since he joined Glee, but I still despise him most of the time." Kurt stared at his hands, as if they could somehow make this easier. "And this… it just… I don't even know what to say…"

"I know what you mean…" They looked at each other for a moment, and Finn noticed, that Kurt's face had become eerily pale. But he knew, that he himself probably didn't look any better. "When we finally found him… I just didn't know what to do, you know? Or what to say… I just stood there…" Finn took a deep breath, before he went on. "And I know that it sounds awful, but… somehow… I'm glad that Mr. Schue insisted on driving me home… I'm glad that I didn't have to be at the hospital. I just don't know how to handle it…"

Kurt nodded absently. "It's a lot to take in…"

"Yeah, but… at the same time I feel bad, because I'm not there, you know?" His voice seemed torn, uneven… just like Finn himself was torn, not able to get a grip on all the emotions running through his body. Worry. Helplessness. Fear. Guilt. And all that was left in the end, was that numb feeling in his stomach. "I just hope he'll be alright…"

"Even if he will be physically - it's not like you can just put something like that behind you." Kurt let out a deep sigh. "I still can't believe that he managed to hide it for so long…"

"Yeah… makes me feel even worse."

"And what happens now?", Kurt asked, not sure what else to say.

"I have no idea… I just hope that it'll end with that guy going behind bars…"

"Yeah… but what happens if his mother denies it? I mean, her boyfriend will for sure, but if she doesn't speak on Puck's behalf, it'll be Puck's word against Danny's… and with his juvie record…" Kurt's voice trailed off as he tried to figure out a way for this to end right.

"What are you saying…?" Finn couldn't hold off the sudden anger rising up inside him, couldn't even explain why it was there.

"Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm totally on Puck's side…" Kurt paused for a second. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth. Unfamiliar. And a weird thought crossed his mind… _There's something I never thought I'd say… _before he came to his senses and went on. "It's just… it won't be easy…"

"But there should be, like, hospital records or something… right?" Finn looked at him, somewhat lost and helpless, as if he was hoping that Kurt would somehow know all the answers.

"Probably… but whatever they've told the doctors, it must've been pretty convincing. I just don't think that it'll be enough…"

"His sister might tell the truth… though I don't know how much she knows about it… or if she'll even be able to say anything. If she'll be okay…"

"What do you mean?" Kurt had almost forgotten about her, and Finn's words didn't sound very good.

"When we got to the house, the ambulance was already there… and for a moment we thought, that… that he was…" Finn closed his eyes for a second, as the memories swept back into his mind "But he wasn't… it was his sister… Though, it looked as if she's gonna be okay, but I don't know for sure…" His hands started trembling again while he tried to get past that nauseating feeling that had come back with the images of that house. "And Puck was gone. He must've thought that she was… that…" But Finn couldn't bring himself to say it out loud.

"So… Mr. Schuester's with him now?", Kurt asked in an attempt to push past the bleak tension filling the room.

"Yeah…" Finn let out a deep breath. He was getting really tired, his mind starting to drift off as he tried to fight off a yawn.

Kurt must've noticed, though, because he took a glance at his watch, before he looked over at Finn. "We should get some sleep… it's getting really late."

"As if I'd be able to sleep right now…" It felt strange. As if he'd said that before. Not so long ago.

"Me neither… but we can still try."

But in the end, all they did, was lying in the dark, wide awake, waiting for time to pass by… waiting for the next morning and the daily routine it would bring with. Hoping, that, maybe - just maybe - it would take this burden, this knowledge, away from them.

But they both knew, that the next day would be different. That there would be no routine. Because… when you learn something… you can't just unlearn it.

And by learning that secret, everything had changed.

* * *

**Author's note**

So... this is a bit different... but there are two reasons for this chapter: 1. I needed a bit of clarity, to sum up what happened... 2. (which is the more important reason) I had to get out of Puck's head for a while... it was getting a bit scary in there...

I hope you all still liked it! So... please let me know =)


	18. Chaos

**Chaos**

The smell was the first thing he noticed, the first thing that made him realize, that he wasn't outside anymore. He knew it far too well, had been in too many Emergency Rooms not to recognize that sterile mixture of disinfectants and sanitizers, that seemed to be the same in every hospital he'd ever been to.

Over the last two years, he'd learnt to hate that smell.

It wasn't the only thing, though. It was just the first. The first one to pull at his mind.

After a while, he became aware of the bright lights surrounding him, those bright lights, that were in such a contrast to the dark night outside. And with the light, the weird background noise, that had seemed so far away the entire time, got louder, all of a sudden, as if someone had just increased the volume… until he could hear everything… all the talking, the crying, the screaming and yelling… spiraling into one giant cloud of voices, that finally jerked him back to reality.

It was chaos.

Nothing else.

People running around, doctors, nurses, patients… but in front of his eyes, they seemed to move in slow motion, as if his mind wasn't yet able to keep up with all the information, all the images being thrown at it. He could see a man holding his arm as his shoulder had seemingly popped out of its socket. A woman covered in someone else's blood was screaming at the top of her lungs while a young doctor tried to calm her down. Another one was holding her son's hand while the doctor stitched up a wound on his head… and a young girl was standing in the middle of this chaos, staring at him, tears running down her face.

_You promised._

And in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

Another man was carted in, unconscious, bleeding, one leg twisted in a strange angle, while someone yelled something about a car-wreck and more people about to be brought in.

Chaos.

But it wasn't really unexpected. Not on a night like this, with all that fresh snow coming down. Even in a small town like Lima, Ohio, that can cause a lot of trouble. And not just concerning cars running off the road.

For what it was worth: all those times he'd spent at hospitals, all the injuries he'd sustained… none of them had had anything to do with a car accident.

Puck looked around for a while, until his eyes came to rest on his hand, that, strangely enough, had been cleaned up for the most part… though it still looked worse than it had two days ago. And someone had put gauze on the wound on his shoulder, which, fortunately, had stopped bleeding. But maybe it had stopped long before now. He really couldn't say. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten that wound in the first place. The fight itself had been over so fast, that he couldn't even remember how long he'd actually been on the ground or how many times he'd been slammed into that wall. There was just no telling what had caused his shoulder to get hurt.

Puck waited around for a few more minutes, not sure, if there was actually someone responsible for him. None of the doctors he saw running around seemed to take a second look at him. It felt as if someone had just stashed him on this table and forgotten about him. He couldn't even find Mr. Schue… and although he didn't really trust his instincts right now, he was quite sure, that the teacher wouldn't just leave him here. Not after what had happened tonight.

For a moment, he thought about asking someone. Maybe one of the nurses, who seemed a little bit less stressed at the moment. But for some unknown reason, he didn't dare open his mouth, didn't trust his voice not to betray him. He couldn't even remember the last thing he'd said. Well… not quite. He knew, that he'd told that woman his name, but after that…

It was possible, that she'd asked other questions, or that someone else had. Puck just didn't know if he'd answered them or if he'd been quiet the entire time.

It took another twenty minutes, until someone finally came back for him. But Puck wasn't really listening, when the doctor told him, just _how _big the damage really was - not counting the injuries that he'd collected over the last week. He only heard bits and pieces of it, and nothing sounded serious enough to get his attention. He'd had it all before… maybe never at once, but still.

The words just floated in the air, never quite able to reach his mind.

Broken ribs. Cracked cheekbone. Cuts. Bruises. Contusions. Lacerations. And something about his hand, but he didn't really catch that last one. Though, no matter what the doc had said, it probably meant, that he'd finally wrecked his hand for good… and Puck had already known that that would happen, when he'd decided to rip off the bandage and beat the crap out of Danny's face.

So what.

He'd get a few stitches, probably a cast for the hand and something for the ribs.

No big deal.

He just didn't like the waiting around. Never had. All that 'will-they-ask-those-damn-questions-or-not'-thing that was always going through his head whenever he got to an ER… it normally made him feel nervous.

Just not tonight.

Tonight was different.

Tonight, he didn't care if they'd ask.

Tonight, he wouldn't lie.

Though Danny had brought him to quite a few different hospitals over the last two years, just so they wouldn't turn up at the same place twice in a month, he hadn't really been able to prevent the doctors from getting suspicious. And the lies had protected them - well, had protected Danny. And although Puck sometimes had gotten the feeling, that all he ever did, was lie, that the only thing he'd ever been good at, was lying, he had never felt comfortable lying to the doctors. So, for the better part of those visits, Danny had told the lies, sometimes by way of telling really adventurous stories, and sometimes with the usual accidents that someone his age could have - football practice, a fight with a friend… things like that - ending the tall tales with things like "teenagers…" or "he always gets himself in trouble"… and other stupid comments that no one wanted to hear. And although Puck barely opened his mouth during those times, although he never actually told a lie himself, he'd never denied any of it either. He'd just nodded along, while at the same time, he'd always hoped that they wouldn't believe it.

But they had. Every time. While the truth had been sitting right in front of them, written all over his body.

Weren't they supposed to help people?

After a while, Puck had accepted, that all they ever did was stitching him up before they threw him back into the pit.

It felt strange, being here again after only two days. Although the last time had been different, had felt different. He'd been here for something he'd done to himself, for something that wasn't Danny's fault. The only other time that had been the case in the last two years, was the time he'd broken his wrist during football practice.

Puck eyes started wandering around again. He could see all those people moving around him, could hear everything that was going on inside these walls… but for some reason, it didn't feel real. As if he was standing somewhere far away, behind a thick glass, not able to reach through. As if he was no longer a part of the world on the other side.

But then… had he ever been a part of it?

Probably not. At least not these past two years.

He'd been standing at the side line, never daring to get into the game, afraid that someone could find out about his darkest secret. And while everyone else had been going forward, he'd been standing at the same spot. Watching. Waiting.

No… he hadn't been a part of it in a long time.

When Mr. Schue finally showed up beside him, it seemed as if the teacher had aged years over the last couple of hours. He looked tired, worn out… and it was obvious, that he was barely able to keep himself together.

Puck must've phased out for quite a while after that, because he suddenly found himself walking towards the exit next to his teacher. It was a strange feeling, as if he'd somehow skipped a whole chapter. As if someone had just ripped out a big chunk of time. He didn't even know, why they were allowed to leave. Shouldn't he be talking to the police or something? Not that he would even get the chance to explain what had really happened, since Danny would probably blame everything on him.

And the only person, who could prove otherwise…

The little girl was suddenly standing behind the glass of the waiting area, her brown eyes filled with tears, her face as white as the snow outside.

_You promised._

Puck closed his eyes for a second, desperately trying to get her out of his head, to get rid of the images haunting his mind.

He didn't want to go back there again, didn't want to remember… and when he looked through the glass again, she was gone.

But then his eyes caught something else, something, that made him stop in his tracks. Someone… a woman… was walking up to him. And although she'd obviously been crying, although she seemed hurt and distraught… there was something else written on her face, lying in her eyes…

Disappointment.

Anger.

Madness.

Puck wasn't prepared for the slap in the face, for the sudden pain spreading over his cheek… or the words that came over her lips.

"How could you? To your own sister?" Her voice was shaking, somewhere stuck between the anger and her tears, getting louder, shrieking, wailing, breaking down. "She might never wake up… and it's your fault." New tears streamed down her face, finding their way over the pale skin, drowning her, as the desperation found its way to the surface. "Why, Noah? Just… tell me why?"

Puck didn't answer. He just stood there, motionless, no longer able to feel anything, while his mother's words ripped him apart. Piece by piece.

"You're not my son… my son would never do something like this…"

For a moment, it seemed as if they were the only two people in an empty room, as if everything and everyone had just disappeared. Just the two of them and the words breaking them apart… until there was nothing left but a giant hole between them that was swallowing everything they ever had.

But the moment was suddenly over, interrupted by another voice. And it took Puck quite a while to understand, what was going on… to realize, that Mr. Schue was standing right next to him, barely able to control his emotions.

"You have no right to talk to him like that!" Every single word was soaked with disdain, the withheld anger clearly visible on his face. "You've lost the right to be his mother the first time you looked the other way."

But she ignored him, ignored the words being thrown at her, ignored the contempt in his eyes. She just stared at her son, as if she didn't even know who he was… as if she didn't recognize him anymore. "You could've killed her… your own sister…"

And then she said something else.

"It should've been you."

The words reached Puck's ears, reached his mind… but he was no longer able to understand them, to understand the meaning lying underneath. And while she turned away and left, he still kept standing there, not able to move, not able to think. As if her words had sucked all life out of him.

He couldn't hear his teacher yelling after her, or Danny's voice being thrown into the argument. He couldn't hear the insults flying around, the angry words filling the air.

It didn't matter anymore.

Puck turned around and left.

The cold that greeted him outside was almost too much for him. But it wasn't like he had a choice. He just couldn't go back in there. Not as long as they were still there.

Moments later, Mr. Schue was standing next to him, mumbling something under his breath. But Puck couldn't care less. He wasn't interested in anything the teacher might have had to say.

They walked over to the car in silence, as if they'd both forgotten how to talk. And maybe they had. At least, for the time being. And neither of them broke the silence, not even after they had arrived at the teacher's apartment.

Puck just couldn't think of anything else but the last words his mother had said to him.

_It should've been you._

And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself, that it had just slipped out… that she didn't actually mean it, he knew that it was exactly what she'd wanted to say. That it was exactly the way she felt about him.

The words were still haunting him, when he lay down on the couch half an hour later. And he knew that they would find a way into his dreams.

The worst things always did.


	19. Nightmare

**Nightmare**

He was blind.

He had to be.

He wasn't able to see anything.

Only darkness.

All consuming…

Haunting…

Darkness.

He could feel it.

Digging into his skin.

Clawing at his soul.

Taking him apart.

The ground under his feet disappeared and he was falling…

Falling into a bottomless hole.

And no matter how hard he tried to find something to hold on to…

He couldn't find anything.

There was just nothing left.

But then it stopped. All of a sudden. And he found himself standing in a never ending hallway, endless rows of lockers covering the walls. It looked so familiar, and so different at the same time. It felt like he'd been here before. A lot. Like he'd walked down this corridor countless times. But then… why couldn't he remember any of it?

A shrill bell rang, and he looked around, startled… before the students started roaming the halls, talking, joking, laughing, kissing, fighting.

But no one looked at him.

No one noticed him.

They just walked right through him, as if he wasn't there.

As if he didn't even exist.

He tried grabbing them, but his hand just went right through.

He tried talking to them, but not a single word left his lips.

He tried screaming at them, but no sound came out of his mouth.

And then they disappeared. Into thin air. And he was alone.

No.

Not entirely.

There was someone… somewhere far away at the end of the hallway.

Without having to think about it, he started walking… and when he got closer, he realized, that it was more than one.

And they looked so familiar.

But he couldn't get close enough to make sure. Couldn't see their faces. Couldn't hear their voices. Not yet.

He started running, wanted to get to them as fast as he could… knew, that everything would be okay, as long as he would be with them.

But he never got there.

No matter how hard he tried.

And then they were gone. Leaving him. Throwing him back into the darkness.

But their voices stayed with him.

He could hear them.

Echoing from the invisible walls…

Hollowing through the dark…

Lunging at him from every direction.

They were everywhere.

"_You think you're a badass?… Think again…"_

And nowhere.

"_You're a liar… that's all you ever gonna be…"_

He knew those voices… knew them better than anything else.

Had heard them talk.

Had heard them fight.

Had heard them sing.

"_You can't win… you never will…" _

The words echoed through his head, rushed through his mind, taking away everything he was.

"_We don't need you… we don't want a looser who can't defend himself…"_

Getting louder.

"_YOU'RE WEAK…"_

He turned around, tried to follow the voices.

"_YOU'RE A FAILURE…"_

His heart was pounding. Racing.

"_SHE COULD'VE DIED…" _

"Leave me alone!" … barely a whisper.

"_IT'S YOU'RE FAULT…"_

"Go away…" … shaking, trembling with fear.

"_WE DON'T NEED YOU…"_

"Please…" … pleading.

"_YOU'RE NOTHING…"_

"GO AWAY!" … screaming.

And he woke up.

Still screaming.

But no one was there to hear him.

He could feel the cold sweat on his skin, the shivers running down his spine… could hear the blood rushing through his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. And his hands were shaking violently, while his mind was still trying to find its way out of the nightmare… out of the dark.

But the pain overwhelming his body when he tried to sit up, pulled him back to reality. And what a reality it was…

His whole body was aching, every muscle, every bone seemed to hurt. Even the slightest movement caused a new wave of pain to come crushing down on him, paralyzing him. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying not to move, as the adrenaline slowly drained away. He could feel himself calming down.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, clenched his teeth… and finally sat up.

Puck looked around, a little bit confused, as his eyes wandered through the unfamiliar room.

This wasn't his bedroom… or any bedroom for that matter.

How the hell had he ended up here?

But then it dawned on him. He'd been here before. A long time ago, before they'd lost at regionals. This was Mr. Schue's apartment.

Though that still left the question, why he was here. And why his hand was in a cast. And why everything hurt.

He stood up, slowly, not really trusting his legs to be able to hold him. But they did. Barely. He knew, that it would probably be better, to just stay on the couch, to try and get some rest, but he feared that he might just fall back into that black hole if he dared to close his eyes. And he couldn't risk that… didn't want to hear their voices again. The accusations. The anger... the indifference.

He just couldn't take it anymore.

Puck tried to remember, where the bathroom was, because, no matter how bad he felt right now, not matter how much he feared to look at the damage, he had to know. He had to see it.

He found the bathroom a few minutes later, and was glad, that his legs didn't mind walking around. At least one part of his body he didn't have to worry about.

But he really wasn't prepared for the face staring back at him, when he looked in the mirror. Nothing could've prepared him for that. Granted, he'd looked pretty bad sometimes, but this… this was a whole new kind of bad.

And there he'd thought that his face would get out of this without any scars. He'd been able to avoid them until now - except the one over his left eyebrow, though it was barely noticeable. But right now, that was just wishful thinking. He just hoped, that the guy who'd stitched him up had done a good enough job, though he wouldn't even recognize anyone if he'd wanted to complain later. He couldn't even remember _being_ at the hospital.

Maybe he had a concussion. Wouldn't be much of a surprise.

At least the cast told him that he had, in fact, been at a hospital recently.

The thing that worried him most, though, was his left cheek. It just looked so messed up, that he didn't even dare touching it. But he couldn't change anything about that now. He just had to avoid laughing, or grinning… or even smiling. Not that he had to worry about that. There wasn't anything he would be laughing about any time soon.

Puck took a deep breath, before he took of his shirt, which, strangely enough, wasn't even his. But judging from the current state of his face, his own shirt was probably not very suitable anymore. He couldn't really remember changing the shirt, though… but that didn't really have to mean anything. He couldn't remember much of anything from last night. As if he had a major blackout from drinking too much. Not that that had happened very often… and he was pretty sure that the headache he had right now had nothing to do with a hangover.

It still took him quite a while to get that shirt off, no matter whom it belonged to.

At least his shoulder looked okay, and the bruises on his ribs had disappeared under a nice layer of white bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. It still hurt, though. A lot. You just never get used to broken ribs, no matter how often you might come across them.

He tried inspecting his face again, but couldn't stand looking at himself for more than a few moments.

When he entered the kitchen a few minutes later, he started to ask himself, where Mr. Schue had gone, because, as far as he could see, the teacher wasn't here. But then, it _was_ a school day, and Puck had slept way too far into it… not that he would have been able to concentrate on classes - he hardly ever did when he _wasn't_ struggling with broken ribs and the pain involved - not to mention that trying to get new information into his head would really be a lost cause in his current state of mind.

He opened the fridge looking for nothing in particular, though he was a little bit disappointed that the teacher had obviously hidden away the beer - if he'd even had any - since it would have been a nice way to get some booze without having to hold out at the 7-Eleven for hours looking depressed, or getting busted with a fake ID. He wasn't feeling hungry, so all he took out after a ten-minute stare-contest with the fridge's content, was some juice. He closed the door, wondering if he should bother to get a glass, when he found the note:

"_Be back in two hours. Don't leave…"_

Now that wasn't very nice… was it? No 'How are you? Hope you slept well…'? Probably didn't have the time to write anything else.

It felt strange… being in this apartment on his own. Strange, because he could practically do whatever he wanted without the risk of running into Danny, strange, because someone trusted him enough to let him stay alone… strange, because he couldn't shake the feeling of being left… like in 'you're on your own, now. Deal with it'. But that was nonsense, of course, because Mr. Schue would be back soon… and then they would probably try to figure out how to resolve this whole 'situation'.

Puck sat down in the kitchen and stared at the note on the fridge.

_Soon._

His heart started to speed up again, as a weird feeling of anticipation overcame him. And not the good kind of anticipation, the one you get when it's the day before your birthday or when you're about to get something that you've been waiting to get for a very long time. No… not that kind of anticipation. The other one. The one that makes your hands sweaty and sends shivers down your spine… the one that won't let you stop thinking about all the things that could possibly go wrong… the one that starts to scare the hell out of you after a while.

Puck had a lot of good reasons to feel like that right now. And not just for the fact that it was nearly impossible for this to end well.

But what else could he do? Run away? Again?

Not that he'd _really_ run away the day before. He'd just needed some time to think. But he'd been faced with the same choice at that time, the choice whether to stay and fight or to run away… and he'd made a decision.

But now, after he'd lived through the consequences of that decision, he wasn't sure if it had been the right one.

Because of that decision, his sister had-

He couldn't bring himself to finish that thought, wanted to forget that it ever happened.

But how could he ever forget? How could he ever forget the fear in Sarah's voice? How could he ever forget that terrified look on her face, the panic in her eyes, right before she fell?

No. He would never forget. Never.

And, all of a sudden, he remembered something else…

"_She might never wake up… you could've killed her…"_

Could've?

But… he'd seen her. The motionless body. The blood. The pale skin.

Didn't she…

Did that mean…? Could she… could she be okay?

A million thoughts rushed through his head, buried him in a pile of questions, that he would never be able to answer. He stared at the fridge, not daring to light that little spark of hope that had found its way back to him. He just couldn't let himself slip back into some kind of illusion, when he knew, that it was just that…

An illusion.

He'd dragged her into this. He had broken his promise. And she'd gotten hurt because of it.

She would be better off without him.

They all would.

Puck took a deep breath, got up and took the note off the fridge. And the only thing that Will Schuester found when he got back home an hour later, was the piece of paper he'd left this morning… new words written under his own:

"I'm sorry…"


	20. This is Goodbye

**This is Goodbye**

Airports, train stations, bus stations. They have a lot of differences: In shape and size, in way of transportation, in the amount of money you need to get away from them. But there's one thing they all have in common: People arriving. And people leaving.

Families on their way to an annual vacation, for example. And no matter how old the children are, the parents always seem to be stressed out and on the edge, dying to get to their destination so they can finally get some well- or not-so-well-deserved relaxation. But right before the departure, it almost seemed as if they could flip at any moment, because the drama their kids put them through right there and then… well, let's just say that they need a lot of patience to handle the forgotten toy or stuffed animal of a toddler, the failing batteries of the handheld game-console or the teenage girl's fear that her boyfriend could cheat on her while she's away. Then you have the couples parting ways. Always a lot of emotional drama with those. Lots of crying. Doesn't matter if it's just for a weekend or for a whole week… well, ok, it does matter, but sometimes it seemed as if they're just over-reacting. But there are others, too. The ones whose relationship is mature enough to stand the distance, the ones that are used to being apart. But you barely notice those, because the drama of the other ones always gets the attention. There's also the fun-kind of travelers, the groups that are exited for their trip, that can't wait to get going. You have the business people that are used to travel a lot and seem to get annoyed if something doesn't go the way it's supposed to, and, of course, the whole thing takes another turn when you watch those same people arriving. Families fighting, because the vacation's over, couples holding on to each other for what seems like hours, because they never want to let go again, and the business people who don't seem to show any emotions at all.

And then there are those who know, that they're not coming back. The ones that don't have anything to come back to. The ones who only leave…

But no one ever notices them. They just get swallowed by the crowd.

Just not in Lima, Ohio. There might be a small county airport, a small train station and a bus station from which you could even get to LA if you were up for a very long drive, but none of those were big enough for one guy to get lost in the crowd, especially when that guy's wearing a Mohawk and looks like he'd run into a few fists recently. And even if he's wearing a hooded sweater, he's still going to attract some attention walking around rather stiffly, wincing every now and then or sitting in the corner furthest away from the entrance, holding his ribs while trying not to breathe in too deep.

But no one asked him if he needed any help. On the contrary. The few people coming in, tried to stay as far away from him as possible, though they couldn't help staring at him, whispering, sometimes even talking to their friend in a loud enough voice for him to hear what they had to say. And those weren't exactly nice things. But he didn't care. He just kept sitting there, staring holes into the air.

And he was still sitting there, when Will entered the bus station an hour later.

The teacher didn't really know why he thought that he could find Puck here, but there just weren't many choices for a teenager to get out of this town… well, at least not for a teenager, who didn't have a car, was low on money and who's battered face would probably destroy any attempt on hitchhiking. People just don't pick up guys that look like they're running away from a lot of trouble.

He spotted Puck almost immediately, sitting at the far end of the room, his left hand clutched around a bag on the chair next to him. Will's bag. And it was probably filled with clothes, that wouldn't even fit, and although he hadn't noticed anything else missing from his apartment, he couldn't help but wonder, what else Puck might've taken. Not that it really mattered right now.

Will slowly crossed the room and sat down next to Puck. He didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to comment on this situation. At least, not yet.

And it was Puck, who broke the silence. "I've been here since this morning… just looking. And although I know that I'll get out of this damn town, no matter which bus I take, that it makes absolutely no difference, where I go… I just can't bring myself to make a decision!" Puck's voice was uneven. It was the first time he'd used it since they'd been at the hospital. "I mean… it's not like I could do something wrong. It's not some kind of life-or-death situation, like choosing between the red and the green wire or something…" He took a deep breath, tightening the grip around the bag. "Did you know that you could take a bus from Lima that will get you directly to LA? I mean, it costs over 200 bucks and would probably take forever… but still…"

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah, me neither. But I don't like the heat they got over there. Summer all year? Nah… not my kind of weather. At least not all the time."

Will had no idea, where Puck was going with this… probably nowhere, but he let him talk.

"I almost bought a ticket to New York. But I figured, with you guys probably winning regionals, I'd have to, like, meet you again, when you head out there for nationals. Not that I don't like you guys or anything, but I'm trying to make a clean cut here."

They sat silent for a moment, watching a younger woman who had just entered the station. She seemed to be in a hurry, but that didn't prevent her from giving Puck a disapproving glance.

"That wasn't very nice.", commented Will when she turned away from them to get a ticket.

"People aren't nice when they think that you're a low-life waiting for an opportunity to steal their money. And the fact that I've been sitting here for quite some time now, doesn't really help with convincing them otherwise." Puck stared down at the floor, pulling the hood a little bit more into his face. "I can't blame them. I don't look very trustworthy right now."

"So… what your gonna do to figure out where you're going?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll just flip a coin. Not that fate's been very nice to me lately, but it's better than doing nothing. It's an easy way to make a choice… or let something else make it for you."

"Did you make the choice to leave on a coin flip, too?" Will asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer to that one.

"No. I actually made that decision by myself. And I'm not gonna change my mind, if that's why you're here." Puck waited a moment to give the teacher the possibility to comment on that. But Mr. Schue didn't say anything. "I'm not coming back with you…"

"I know. And I'm not going to make you"

Puck looked up at his teacher, confused. He'd expected almost anything, from an attempt to talk him out of this up to getting dragged out of the station. Anything. Just not those words coming out of his teacher's mouth.

"I can't even imagine what it must've been like to go through this… to know that this could happen at any time, to be terrified in your own home." Will let out a deep sigh. "I'd probably do the same, but-"

"But what?"

"You're the only person who can stop that guy from doing something like that again."

"Yeah… well, looks like he's gonna get away with it, because I just can't deal with that anymore." Puck let go of the bag, his hand starting to cramp up.

"You wouldn't have to do it on your own… you know that, right?"

"Yeah… that's the problem…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, yesterday, when I decided to end it, I went home to get my sister out of harms way, because I thought that it might get ugly as soon as I start talking… and she got hurt because I tried to do the right thing for a change." Puck leaned back and took a deep breath that he regretted only seconds later, when the sharp pain ran through his ribs.

Will nodded his head absently, thinking about what Puck had just said. It made sense… in a way. Not that he liked the idea of Puck running off to some unknown city, but he knew, that he couldn't force him to stay.

"I know that running away seems easy, especially when you're running from something as bad as this, but… can you answer me one question?"

"Sure…"

"You've been brave enough to go through this for over two years. Alone. Then why can't you be brave enough to end it?"

Puck had to think about that for a moment, wasn't sure how to put his answer into words. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me."

"That's not going to happen."

"Yeah, right. Because Danny's just gonna go down quietly? No way…"

"Maybe not… but what's he gonna do? He'll be behind bars before he can even figure out what hit him."

"And what if not? What if something goes wrong?" Puck voice was shaking, the mere thought of Danny's mental state in that scenario scaring the hell out of him.

"He won't get anywhere near you. I won't let that happen.", the teacher replied forcefully.

"I'm sorry to say that Mr. Schue, but you're no match for the guy. He'd snap you in half in a matter of seconds. No offense."

"None taken." Mr. Schue took a deep breath. "You're probably right about that. But that doesn't mean that I can't protect you. I already talked to Figgins, to fill him in on the situation and the reason you weren't there, and to figure out what to do next. That's the reason I wasn't there this morning." He didn't know, why he said that last part. Maybe he felt a little bit guilty about leaving Puck alone like that.

"Well, whatever you told him, it won't matter, because I ain't staying." Puck took the bag and put it on his lap, his left hand grabbing the fabric so tight, that his knuckles turned white.

"Yeah, I get that. Where'd you get the money from, anyway?"

"I pawned my uncle's watch. Turns out it's worth a lot more than I thought. The guy probably stole it himself before I-" Puck cleared his throat. "- before I inherited it. It'll be enough for the ticket outta here."

"And what are you going to do once you get there?"

"Don't know… I'll improvise. I'm pretty good at improvising." He was. But he'd never been in a situation like this. And to be honest, he hadn't even thought about what he would do, once he'd arrive at his soon-to-be home.

"You can't just leave and hope you'll find money lying on the streets."

"Sure I can…" It wasn't much of a defense. Wasn't much of anything. But he just didn't know what else to say.

"No, you can't…" Will took out his wallet and took out what cash he had. It wasn't very much, though. Not enough for Puck to get very far. And a moment later, Puck not only had the money in his hand, but also a credit card.

He looked up at his teacher, not sure, what to make of that, not able to say anything… at all.

"There's not a lot damage you can do with that one, I don't have the best line of credit. But I'd appreciate it if you'd only use it for things you really need, like food and a place to stay."

"Why are you doing this?", Puck asked, overwhelmed by a strange mixture of confusion and gratitude.

"Because I'd rather have you living on my credit card than back in juvie, because you had to steal food. And I sure as hell don't want you freeze to death out on the street." Will shook his head, as he realized what he was doing. He knew, that this was probably the worst thing, he could be doing in this kind of situation… letting Puck go like this. But until Puck changed his mind about going to the police, there wasn't much he could do. And he could understand, why Puck believed that staying here wasn't an option, either. He could probably stay at a friends house or something, or even with Will for a while, but as long as Danny was still out there, he would never be able to get over this… if he ever was.

"You're sure that you wanna do this?"

Puck breathed out heavily. Slowly, he took of the hood, revealing his whole face for the first time since he'd left Mr. Schue's apartment this morning, before he turned his head.

"Look at me." His voice was uneven, speaking of the unknown horrors crawling through his mind. "I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore, because, even after the bruises disappear, they're all I can see. I can't sleep, because I'm afraid that I'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I can't walk down the street, because, every time I see a man walk by in a suit, I think it's Danny, and my hands start shaking… and no matter how hard I try, I just can't make them stop!" Puck's voice trailed off, as the last words found their way over his lips. "So, yeah… I'm sure." He pulled the hood back over his head, hiding away his face… hiding away the tears.

"If you should ever change your mind… I'll be there!"

"I know…"

Will got off his chair, knew, that this was the time to say goodbye, and no matter how bad he felt about leaving, he just couldn't bring himself to stay any longer.

"So… this is it?"

"Yeah… I guess…"

"Just… promise me that you'll call, when you need help, will you?" Will took out a piece of paper and wrote down his home number. "And wherever your coin flip takes you, let me know when you get there."

Puck took the number and put it in his pocket with the cash and the credit card. There was an awkward silence. Neither of them knew what else to say. They both weren't very good with saying goodbye.

"Take care.", was all Will said, before he started walking towards the exit.

"Mr. Schue…?" Puck's voice was frail, uneven.

Will turned around, almost hoping, that Puck had changed his mind. "Yeah?"

Puck raised his head. And although the defeat was clearly visible in his eyes, in the tears running down his face, a hint of a smile had found its way back on his lips. A spark of hope. "Thank you… for everything."

* * *

**Author's note:**

I know that you probably wanna scream "WHAT?", but please, wait for the next chapter, before you decide to rip my head off. :D

And I want to thank you all again for all your kind reviews. I love reading what you guys think about it, and it really motivates me to continue this story (though I'll finish it either way... but the reviews help a lot!). So, keep them coming :D

Thanks!


	21. Letting go

**Letting go**

It was a long drive back to the apartment. Though it wasn't supposed to be. On a normal day it would only have taken about ten minutes, more or less. But this wasn't a normal day. This was so far from being a normal day as it could possibly be.

Will found himself sitting in his car, in the parking lot, and for some reason, he wasn't able to turn the key in the ignition, to start the car and drive away. Instead, he stared out of the windshield, out into the white winter wonderland the last night had left them with. At any other time, he might've found it beautiful. Might've liked the idea of having a white Christmas for once… even if he would probably spent it alone. But he didn't even see the snow, didn't see the ice crystals sprawling over the side window's of the car standing next to his, or the thick layer of snow hiding away the cold asphalt. He just sat there, waiting… though he didn't even know what he was waiting for. There was nothing left to do here. He'd said goodbye. It was over…

Puck wasn't going to change his mind.

But something was holding him back, preventing him from leaving. And there was this little voice in the back of his head, telling him, that he was wrong. That _this_ was the worst thing he could do, that there was still time to change his mind… to stop Puck from running away. And it wasn't just whispering at him. It was getting louder, yelling - no, almost screaming at him - to go back into that building. But he wasn't going to listen to it... wasn't going to go back.

He just needed a little more time to let go.

When he finally started the car, his fingers were already stiff from the cold, and he was glad, that the heater would soon be filling his car with nice, hot air, and maybe the warmth would help him relax… at least a little bit.

But it didn't work. He still couldn't shake that uneasy feeling, couldn't get rid of that painful knot in his stomach. He didn't even notice that he was taking one wrong turn after another, driving around aimlessly for what seemed like hours. He just couldn't concentrate on anything but the fact, that Puck would soon be out of this town… and that he would probably never come back.

Of all the kids joining Glee, Puck had always the one Will had never been able to understand. It had been easy enough with Finn - they'd had some kind of connection right from the start, and he saw a lot of himself in the tall teenager. Rachel, on the other hand… well, they had their differences, and sometimes - no, a lot of times - it was hard to listen to her. But it wasn't hard to _understand_ her, at least she knew what she wanted - though her ambitions always seemed to get in the way of everything else. Kurt had always known who he was and Mercedes…

Okay, he didn't really _know _all of them, but it still felt like he knew what was driving them… like he got who they were. Granted, Will had sometimes gotten a little bit annoyed by all their teenage drama, especially when they just couldn't get over themselves right before a competition. But they were teenagers. They weren't supposed to do it right all the time. They were supposed to learn from their mistakes. And those dramas had always been pushed aside by the joy of watching them work together, the joy of teaching them, the joy of listening to them when they sang their hearts out, despite being teased almost every day, despite the slushie-facials, despite being at the bottom of the high-school food chain. Inside the walls of the choir room, they were safe… they were themselves.

Just not all of them…

When Puck had decided to join Glee club, Will had thought it was a joke. The mere thought of the football player, whose main concern was his reputation, joining the least popular group at this school was just… well, unbelievable would be an understatement. He'd had similar thoughts about Quinn, Santana and Brittany at first, but for Quinn to want to be with Finn had been plausible, and after all, they were Cheerios, dancers, performers. There was at least some kind of connection to show choir. But Puck? Will just hadn't figured him as the kind of guy who would risk his reputation just so he could sing. It had taken him until sectionals last year to figure out, that the football player had probably just joined because of Quinn, to be closer to her. And Will had probably been almost as mad at Puck for betraying Finn as Finn himself had been. He just hadn't felt the need to kick over chairs… it hadn't been his place to be angry about it. And he'd had enough trouble on his own to deal with.

Why Puck had stayed afterwards… he didn't know. And when he was honest with himself, he hadn't really cared. Not that he hadn't been glad to have Puck's voice and musical talent, but he'd never really warmed up to him… until later that year. But still… he'd never gotten as close to Puck as he was to everyone else. And that was the problem…

He'd helped Finn out, after he'd found out that Quinn was pregnant. He'd helped Kurt with his Karofsky problem… as far as he'd been able to. He'd even spoke up his mind to Figgins when he'd forbidden Tina to wear her 'demon clothes' as he'd called it… but when Puck had stormed out of Figgins office after his parole officer had threatened to sent him back to juvie, Will hadn't done anything. He hadn't even tried to talk to Puck after that…

"_Since when do any of you care about helping me? None of you care about me…"_

He hadn't listened.

And now, Puck was gone.

Without realizing it, Will had driven into the parking garage and had parked the car. He'd arrived back at his apartment and couldn't even remember, how he'd gotten there. As if someone had just forwarded the whole drive and cut straight to the end of the road. Will shook his head, slightly confused, before he left the car and walked up to his apartment, surprised to find Finn waiting for him at the door.

"Hi Mr. Schue.", Finn greeted him, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Hi Finn… what are you doing here?", the teacher asked absently, looking for his keys, before he realized, that he'd already had them in his hand. It was a dumb question, though. He already knew why Finn was there.

"I, ehm… wanted to know how Puck's doing. I mean, I'd go to the hospital, but I didn't know if he's still there, but he wasn't at school either, and I only saw you for a minute when you were in Figgins' office, so…" Finn stared down at his feet, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I came here…"

Will unlocked the door and motioned for Finn to get in. "He stayed here for the night.", he said, when he took off his jacket and followed Finn into the living room.

"So… how is he? I mean, what did the doctor say?" Finn stood next to the couch, too nervous to sit down. And he kept looking to the other rooms, expecting Puck to appear at any second.

"He's gonna be okay.", Will answered swiftly. "At least physically…", he added, not sure, what else to say.

"Yeah… Kurt said something about tha-" Finn wished he could take those words back as soon as they'd left his lips.

"You told Kurt?"

"I had to, I mean… he started asking questions about why I got home so late and why he had to cover for me and stuff like that. And I kinda let it slip that Puck had something to do with it, so he assumed that he just got into trouble, or another fight, or… something. And I didn't want him to think that. So… I told him." Finn didn't dare to look up, felt somehow embarrassed, because he hadn't been able to keep it to himself. "But… I don't know. I- I'm glad that I did. I just… I just couldn't deal with it."

"Me neither." Will took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. He felt so tired and worn out, but then also nervous and on the edge at the same time, not able to calm down for more than a minute. He'd been living off adrenaline ever since Puck had entered his office the day before, driving on a roller coaster of emotions, that had pulled him up on a steep hill of worry and concern, had taken a free fall, throwing him into a bottomless hole of panic and fear… before it had finally stopped at the bus station, leaving him with nothing but a sick and nauseating feeling in his stomach. And he just couldn't go for another ride. "I talked to Figgins this morning. Not that it matters anymore, but I needed to fill him in on Puck's situation. And… I also talked to Emma."

"What do you mean…?", Finn asked, slightly confused, before he realized, that his question wasn't exactly clear enough to be answered. "I mean, when you said 'not that it matters anymore'…"

Will leaned back and closed his eyes for a second. He'd known that that question had been bound to come up as soon as he'd spotted Finn at his door. But he'd hoped, that he'd somehow be able to get around it. He just didn't know how to explain to Finn that his former best friend was gone, that he'd left without saying goodbye… that he wasn't going to come back.

"So…?", Finn tried again.

Will took a deep breath, and when he opened his mouth, his voice sounded somewhat strange… like it wasn't even his. "He left…"

There was silence for a moment, as Finn tried to figure out, what his teacher was saying, because, it certainly couldn't mean what he thought it meant… because that would be bad. Very, very bad.

But Finn couldn't find any other meaning in those words, couldn't find any explanation for them being said. And before he could even think about it, another word slipped over his lips. "What?"

"He took a bus to… somewhere." Will raised his head, looked up at the tall teenager, who's face had turned eerily pale. "He's gone, Finn."

Finn slumped down on the couch, the teacher's words seemingly draining all the strength out of him. "Wha-… Why?", was all he got out while his mind was no longer able to hold another thought.

"Because he feels that there's no other way…" The words hung in the air like a cold, dark cloud, too thick to let a single ray of sunlight through… to let a single positive thought into their heads.

"You're sure? I mean, you're sure that he left?" Finn looked at his teacher, hoping desperately - no, pleading - for him to say 'no'.

"Yeah, I am. I… ehm… said goodbye at the bus station an hour ago.", Will answered and looked away, not able to meet Finn's eyes.

"Wait… you caught up with him and let him leave?"

"I couldn't force him to stay, and I couldn't talk him out of it, either, so… I let him go." The conversation had taken a strange turn, had somehow become an interrogation with Will Schuester being on the wrong end. And he didn't like the idea that he had to explain himself to his student… it wasn't supposed to be that way.

"But… where's he gonna go?" Finn seemed to be beside himself, stuck somewhere between being in a state of paralyzing shock and freaking out, while trying to understand the whole meaning of this conversation.

"He hadn't decided… yet. And I hope that he never will, that he'll revise his decision and come back..."

"And if he doesn't?" Finn's voice cracked, spiraling into an unpleasant, almost painful shriek.

Will didn't answer… there was just no answer to that, no comfort he could give. The only thing left was the hope that Puck would be alright… somehow.

"But… I mean, wherever he ends up… he's got no money.", said Finn after a while, not entirely sure if that was even important right now. It didn't change anything… made it even worse.

"He has some. And my credit card. Some of my clothes, too, though I haven't checked if anything else is missing."

"You gave him your credit card? Are you out of your mind?" Finn hadn't intended to start yelling, knew, that he shouldn't… but he just couldn't help it. It was bad enough that Puck had left - that the teacher had _let _him leave - but did he have to make it so easy? Maybe Puck would've thought twice about it, if he'd been faced with a brick wall at the end of his road. But Mr. Schue had taken that wall down, had paved the way…

"I didn't think about it. I just had to make sure that he'd be able to survive, you know?" It was the truth. He hadn't thought about it… at least not when he'd taken the card out of his wallet. And when he'd realized, that it had probably been a mistake, that it would only push Puck further to getting on a bus, it had been too late to take it back.

But, then again, Puck would've left anyway. Will had just made sure, that Puck wouldn't fall apart on the way.

"You're his teacher… you- you should've stopped him… not help him get away!" The anger was still there, seemed to be the only thing keeping Finn sane right now, the only thing keeping reality at bay… distracting him from the fact, that his best friend was gone.

"I wasn't there as his teacher, Finn." Will's voice was steady, calm even, though he feared, that it could fail him at any moment. "I was there as a… friend. As someone who could help him. And that's what I did… just in a different way than I'd wanted to."

"This whole thing is just so messed up…" Finn ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the slight tremble in his fingers. He had tried to keep his voice steady, but failed… miserably. "He- he didn't even say goodbye." Somehow, the tears started running down his face. He didn't want them to, tried to hide them, to wipe them away, because he felt that he had no right to cry, that he had no right to feel as if his whole life was crumbling. He might've lost a friend… who hadn't even really been his friend in a long time. But Puck had lost everything. No… Finn had no right to cry.

But he just couldn't stop…

* * *

There are two things that you don't want to wake up to in the middle of the night: Your phone and the doorbell. Because it's almost always bad news.

So, when Will woke up around two in the morning, a shrill noise ringing in his ears, it might've taken him a while to realize that it was his phone, but only a second for that bad feeling to crawl into his stomach afterwards. He got out of bed and walked over to the phone. He almost didn't dare pick it up, afraid of what might be waiting on the other end. He just couldn't handle any more bad news.

His hand was shaking slightly, when he picked it up, and his heart skipped a few beats when he recognized the voice at the other end.

"Puck…? That you?"

"Yeah…"

"What… what happened? Are you alright?" The questions stumbled out of his mouth before he had even time to think about it, while he tried to figure out, why Puck was calling him at this time of night.

"I'm fine… I mean... nothing happened. I just…" There was silence on the other end, just for a moment. "When you said that- that you'd be there… did you mean it?"

Will closed his eyes, not able to stop the sudden wave of relief washing over him, as the words slowly found their way over his lips:

"Yeah… yeah, I did!"


	22. In the beginning

**In the beginning**

"It hasn't exactly been easy since my dad left." He didn't know, why he started there. He didn't even know why he'd started at all. It was nearly four in the morning, far too late to do anything but sleep. Puck was more tired than he'd ever been, he just wanted to lie down on the couch, to close his eyes and fall asleep, but before he'd even realized, what he was doing, he'd opened his mouth and the words had stumbled over his lips. And he'd begun to tell his story… from the beginning:

"But we did alright. Most of the time. I mean, I did… and my sis, too, I guess. She didn't really know him, after all." Puck's voice was unfamiliarly calm. For the first time, he wasn't angry. For the first time, he wasn't scared. For the first time, he wasn't ashamed.

"But my mom was devastated. And I could understand that… at first. But she didn't get better, she didn't even try… and that was hard sometimes. So… when I found her in the kitchen one morning, making breakfast for the first time in months - well, first _real_ breakfast in years - singing and dancing around like in some chick-flick movie… it was weird, but I was happy for her. And I thought that, whoever made her behave like that, made her feel that way, had to be a great guy… because… I hadn't seen her smile like that since… since he'd left."

Will stood behind the couch, still wearing his jacket, still holding the keys in his hand. Puck hadn't said a single word when Will had picked him up at the bus station. Hadn't explained, why he'd changed his mind, or why he'd waited so long to call him after the station had closed at five. And the teacher hadn't asked, had thought that they'd talk about it the next day. But now, that Puck was talking, Will didn't really know what else to do, but listen.

"That morning, all she could talk about, was the guy she'd met a few days earlier. What he looked like and his great job and how he made her laugh… It became a bit annoying after the first hour, but… well, he made her happy, and that was all I really needed to know. I mean, a guy who'd make her feel like that, just couldn't be a bad guy, right? But then he moved in… which happened pretty fast, and that just felt weird, you know?"

Mr. Schue nodded, but didn't say anything, when he finally walked around the couch and sat down opposite of Puck.

"It started out okay… I guess. For a few weeks at least. It was obvious that Danny loved her, very much. And he was great with my sister, bought her books and stuff… though he wasn't big on reading to her or telling bed-time stories. But for some reason, he didn't like me… I mean, he didn't do anything, but… I don't know, he just behaved different when he talked to me. Not angry or something, just… neutral… somehow. I didn't mind, though. I could practically do whatever I wanted, and since my mom had more or less stopped… ehm… being depressed, I didn't have to take care of my sister as much. So it was kinda great that he was there. Like we were a family again… of some sorts. I mean, not like the ones who have these nice pictures plastered all over their living rooms, but he took care of us and I had my freedom back. I hung out with Finn a lot more and stopped being so angry all the time."

"What changed…?" Will hadn't intended to interrupt, the words had just slipped out.

"Well… one day, one Friday afternoon, I… ehm… kinda threw a football through our neighbor's window. Not on purpose… not really. I mean… that creep kept standing behind it, staring at me, and I wanted to scare him a little bit. But I kinda aimed wrong, and instead of the wall, I hit the window. Fortunately, he saw it coming, because… if he hadn't moved… guess that would've turned out a lot worse… for him and for me. But he did, so… I mean… I broke his window, it happens…" Puck fell silent for a moment, while that afternoon unraveled in front of his eyes, and he wished, that he could go back, that he could change it, change that split second when he'd had the stupid idea to throw the ball.

"Sure, that wasn't very nice, and I knew that I'd get in trouble for that. But I thought that I just had to pay for the window and get grounded for a month or something like that. And it seemed to go into that direction… there sure was a lot of yelling. But not just about the window. My mom must've told him a lot about the stuff I did before that, because he practically brought up every mistake I'd ever made … and, I mean, I wasn't an easy kid, so… there was a lot. And she only knew _half_ of it.", Puck took a deep breath, and for a moment, he could see himself standing in the living room that afternoon, staring at the floor, while Danny's voice roared through the room. "But even that would've been okay, you know? Because I did those things and I guess I kinda deserved being yelled at for that. It just… it didn't stop there."

"What happened?" It was a dumb question. It was obvious what had happened.

"Well, for one, I started yelling back. I mean, I didn't want to listen to all of that anymore, and it wasn't fair that he'd bring all that stuff up when it had nothing to do with the broken window. But then my mom was suddenly standing at the door… crying. So, we stopped yelling and… I mean, I apologized, like, a hundred times, for upsetting her, because… I kinda feared that she might start drinking again, because that's what she always did when thing got too complicated and… I didn't want to be the cause for that, so... I walked over to her, tried to calm her down-" Puck swallowed hard, not able to continue, as Danny's words echoed through his head…

_Now look what you did…_

"And then… I-I don't know… It was like someone had flipped a switch or something. He grabbed my arm, pulled me away from her, and before I even knew what was going on he… he hit me in the face." Puck was talking very fast, to get it out before he had the chance to think it over. It seemed easier that way.

"I didn't really feel it… not at that moment. It just happened so fast and I-" He swallowed hard, afraid that he could choke on his own word. "I don't know, I guess I was just… shocked. And I kept waiting for something else to happen, for him to say something. But he didn't. And I stormed out, ran over to Finn's… I don't even know why I did that, because, I mean, I didn't want to tell him what happened, but… it was the only place I could think of."

There was a moment of silence, while Will waited for Puck to go on. But Puck seemed somehow lost in his thoughts, trapped somewhere between that Friday afternoon, and the present. "What did you tell him?"

Puck looked up, and, realizing, that he'd stopped talking, went on with his story. "I told him that I had a fight with one of the kids in my neighborhood. That was the first time I lied. Not in general, but… the first time I lied about this… about Danny. And I still can't believe that he bought it. I mean, I told him a pretty wild story. So… I stayed over for the night, and when I left the next day, I kinda hoped, that Danny would be gone… or that he'd at least apologize or something. But he didn't. When I got home, I found them all in the kitchen. Sarah was doing a jigsaw puzzle on the floor, Danny was helping her… and my mom just stood at the other side of the room, drinking coffee, watching the two of them, smiling. I was so weird… as if nothing happened. They didn't even ask me where I'd been the whole night. And I asked myself if it actually _did _happen, though one look in the mirror was enough proof. But… at first I thought, that it had just been a mistake, that he hadn't actually meant to hurt me. Like his hand had slipped or something. But then I got detention for something… stupid… and he found out about that… and _I_ found out that it hadn't been a mistake." Puck took a deep breath. It felt strange to talk about it like that, like he wasn't even part of it anymore… as if he was telling someone else's story, a story he'd heard, not lived through. But at the same time he could see every single moment flash before his eyes, could feel every single emotion, every single bit of pain, that he'd felt back then.

"I tried to do better, not to provoke him again, to stay out of his way… I mean, since that first… "incident"… getting into trouble had gotten a lot more painful than it used to be… and I wasn't such a fan of the pain. But… that didn't last for more than two weeks. He just found another reason, something else he could blame on me. I guess, in his eyes, I was a total failure, and he somehow had the need to remind me of that as often as possible. So, since staying out of trouble didn't really help, I started to provoke him, to do stuff on purpose just to get him mad…"

"You did what…?", Will asked, not sure if he'd heard right.

"It's stupid, I know, but… I wanted to find out how far he'd go. And I really learnt my lesson on that when I missed a whole week of school for having "the flu"."

"The flu?"

"Well… he beat me up so bad, that he didn't trust me to be able to lie my way out of it if anyone should ask, so he decided, that I should stay home for a few days. It wasn't that bad… I mean, my mom made me more waffles than I could ever eat, so that was kinda nice. She didn't talk to me, though."

Will shook his head, no longer able to say anything, as a strange feeling of sadness washed over him.

"So, I didn't try that again, but that didn't prevent him from beating the crap out of me every now and then. Sometimes even without a reason, just to remind me that he still had the upper hand. Especially when I decided to fight back… not that I ever had a chance or anything, I mean, that guy is huge, but I still tried, because, at least it made me feel like I did something, you know? But it just made things worse. If that was even possible… I mean, I've been in, like, six different hospitals, five of them being outside of Lima. I probably cracked every bone in my body at least once, had more cuts and bruises than I could ever count… and by the end of the day, I was just always glad, when I got through it without having to add something new to the very long list of injuries." Puck stared down at his hands, somehow waiting for them to start shaking, like they had done it so many times over the last two days. But they didn't. Not even the slightest shiver.

"It wasn't all bad, though. There were quiet times, too. And although I knew, every time, that it wouldn't last, I still hoped that it would… that it would be over for good. But, of course, it never was. It just took a little bit more to get him mad again."

"Didn't Quinn live at your house for quite some time last year?", Will asked quietly.

"Yeah…" Puck's voice seemed to trail of, while he thought back to those few weeks. "Yeah, she did. It was actually pretty nice. There was no yelling, no fighting… they all behaved like a picture-perfect family… didn't feel right, though."

"And Quinn didn't notice anything?"

"No. She was just annoyed with my mom always telling her what to eat and stuff. But I think my mom actually liked her… at least, she finally had someone she could talk to, you know? About stuff women like to talk about…" A hint of a smile crossed Puck's lips as remember those few, happy weeks. But the smile faded away as quickly as it had appeared.

"And Danny? He just… stopped?"

"Yeah… for the moment, at least. He was actually pretty nice to me, which was all kinds of creepy. He's always been the better liar, though…" Puck sighed deeply. "But when Quinn moved to Mercedes, it was payback time… I mean, I had, after all, gotten my best friend's girlfriend pregnant. So… I guess I had that coming to me... The coffee-table didn't like that so much, though."

"But… didn't you say that that happened during the summer? I mean, Quinn moved in with Mercedes long before summer, didn't she?"

"Yeah, well, the fight that had led to that, hadn't exactly been about that whole baby thing. But it came up again during that one, so… I kinda tend to put those two things together." Puck ran a hand through his Mohawk, feeling somewhat out of place.

"I mean, at the very least, I don't think that he'd meant for it to happen. He just pushed me a little bit too hard and I fell. The table was just in the way. And I don't really remember much. Just that it hurt… a lot. I kinda blacked out, and when I woke up, I was in the hospital. He'd actually been worried enough to call an ambulance instead of driving me out of town… so I guess it freaked him out a little bit. Not that he'd apologized or anything, or even showed any concern, but still…"

"And you've been there for two weeks? Without telling anyone?"

"Yeah… that kinda sucked. I mean, most of the cuts weren't all that deep, but…" Puck unintentionally moved his hand to his back, his fingers touching the scar under his shirt. "There was this one piece that kinda stuck in there pretty deep and did a lot of damage. But I don't really remember what exactly… just that it took a while until they would let me leave. I would've called someone, if I'd thought that I'd be able to explain it without telling the truth… but I just couldn't think of anything good. And it was probably better that way, I mean… at least no one had to worry about me, and the nurses were pretty hot." Another smile appeared on his face, just for a moment, like a ghost… a memory of the person he used to be.

"But then I had to leave, to go back to that house. I think that was the first time, that I was scared. I mean, from what I've heard, I'd almost died that night… and something like that can really mess with your head. So… in a way, I was glad for every time he'd just throw me out. It gave me an excuse to get away from that place for a few days."

"Why didn't you just stay away? I mean, I know why you went back, but… why did he let you?"

"I know… it doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? But then again, he's never really behaved very rational when it came to me. Sometimes he'd lock me into my room, sometimes he'd throw me out… I mean, I never really found out what throws him over the edge in the first place. Sometimes I could get detention or go out until two in the morning, and he wouldn't even care. And sometimes I would just look at him the wrong way and he'd go all deathstar on me."

"And your mother never said anything?"

"Not that I know of. If she did, it didn't change anything. But I guess, she didn't want to risk loosing him over this… and it wasn't like I was totally innocent. I'm not saying that I deserved any of it, I know that what he did is wrong, but I caused her a lot of trouble, so…"

"That's no excuse. There _is _no excuse for her to look the other way. I can't even begin to understand why she'd want to be with a guy like that."

"Don't ask me… I have no idea what's been going on in her head these past two years. Or even before that. Ever since my dad left, she kinda stopped behaving like a mom would, you know? I mean, not that she didn't have her moments, but… well, before she met him, she'd start most days by throwing liquor bottles at me, so… I'm kinda thankful to Danny for getting her away from that stuff. And it wasn't that bad at first. It didn't happen very often and her happiness was somehow worth the pain… But, over time, the beating got worse, and somewhere on the way, her smile disappeared again. I don't know if it was just that everyday life had taken over or if she'd stopped loving him… of even got scared. And it doesn't matter. I just… I just never understood why she let him stay when she wasn't happy anymore. But… I guess, she just couldn't let go. She'd already lost one man… she probably just can't stand the thought of losing another one." His voice trailed off, as he tried to find the right words. But they were already there, on the tip of his tongue, waiting for him to let them go.

"The sad thing is, that, before, even with all the drinking and the crying, and the fact that she could change from having some weird motherly fit where she wouldn't let me out of her sight, to throwing stuff at me for no good reason, in a matter of seconds… it had been way better. At least back then, she'd shown some kind of emotion, you know?" Puck shook his head, as if he still wasn't able to understand any of it.

"Now, she doesn't even seem like a real person anymore… like some kind of ghost or something. She barely does anything… or even says a word. Like she's stopped living. She just _is_…" He looked up, a strange expression on his face… somewhat caught between a doubtful smile and a desperate glance. "Does that even make any sense?"

Will didn't answer. He just didn't know what to say to that.

"She didn't even come to the hearing… before they sent me to juvie. She didn't visit me, either. Not once. And I only did that whole thing, because I thought that someone might look a little closer and find out what's been going on these past two years. I mean… how stupid is that?" Puck let out a laugh. But it didn't sound right. It didn't belong in that story. "But - of course - no one did… so, I was stuck in that place."

"Wait… you got caught on purpose?"

"Yeah… guess I got kinda desperate. Didn't help, though. But it _did_ give me a new perspective on my situation…"

Will looked up, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Well… juvie was a lot worse than it was at home, at least, being at home, I had half the day to myself, even if I had to spend it at school. But, I guess, everything would be better than staying at that place."

"I'm sorry…"

"Why?"

"Because I didn't listen…" Will didn't look up, wasn't able to meet Puck's eyes. "That day, when we were in Figgins' office with your parole officer. When she told you that you'd have to go back to juvie if you couldn't find something else for your community service, you freaked out and… left. I should've talked to you… but I didn't."

"You don't have to be sorry about that. It wouldn't have changed anything. I would've lied… again. I wasn't ready to tell the truth… I mean, I told Artie that juvie scared the hell out of me, but… that was different, because juvie wasn't the problem anymore, Danny was… still is."

"Not for much longer.", Will said absently, his mind already drifting to the next day. "You're sure you're ready for this?"

Puck took a deep breath. "As sure as I'll ever be…"


	23. Halfway there

**Halfway there**

Monday morning. A day that was supposed to be like any other… just that it wasn't.

Finn didn't even know what he'd expected from that day. It wasn't like he had any hope that anything had changed over the weekend. Mr. Schue hadn't been at school all Friday, hadn't held his Spanish class, hadn't attended glee rehearsal, which had left Rachel in charge… or rather she'd put herself in charge… again. But Finn couldn't have cared less. He hadn't even listened to half of what she'd said, hadn't even noticed the sometimes outraged reactions of his fellow glee club members.

It had been hard, though, to tell her that he wouldn't be able to meet her that weekend. Rachel, of course, had already made the wildest plans, and had been more than offended that he'd turned her down. But Finn knew that he wouldn't have been able to concentrate on anything, let alone pretend that he was having fun, and Rachel hadn't really taken it very well, especially the part where Finn had just left her standing in front of her locker.

So, instead of hanging out with her for what probably would have been a very weird and boring weekend, he'd spent the two days in his room, trying to get himself to call Puck. But he just couldn't do it, couldn't think of anything to say. And to be honest? What was there to say? Puck had left… hadn't even said goodbye. And nothing would change that.

If he'd called, Finn had of course found out, that Puck had come back, had changed his mind, and maybe he wouldn't have had to waste his time molesting the handheld device of his x-box in a weak attempt to get his mind off of the depressing fact that his best friend had left him behind. And by the end of the day, he'd thrown that thing against the wall, his hands too weak to do much more playing - if you'd want to call getting killed every six or seven minutes 'playing'.

Kurt on the other hand, had spent the weekend with Mercedes and Blaine, though Finn had the feeling that Mercedes probably hadn't really liked the idea of being the third wheel in that combination… and although Finn had been glad that Kurt had been having fun, he'd felt jealous… somehow. Jealous about the fact, that Kurt had been able to actually have a normal weekend, while Finn had been on the edge the entire time, not able to do anything except staring at his phone as if trying to hypnotize it into giving him good news. But then… Kurt hadn't even known that Puck had left Lima. Hadn't known that he was never going to come back. Until late Sunday evening, when Kurt had raised the question weather Puck might be coming back to school the following day… and Finn just hadn't been able to keep it to himself any longer.

It had been another one of these strange conversations, the ones where they both didn't really know what to say or what to think, feeling sad and worried and concerned and somehow scared, all at the same time, loosing all words underway.

And now it was Monday, and as far as Finn was concerned, he wasn't going to see Puck anywhere near the school… or anywhere else for that matter.

The first few hours went by as they would have on any other day, Finn just didn't notice any of it. He wasn't tired or anything, wasn't about to fall asleep during the lessons, he just couldn't keep his mind in the present time as his thoughts drifted off to these few life-changing days of the last week, sipping away into Puck's nightmare. And somewhere during that Monday morning, he found himself walking through the hallway, barely able to lift his feet enough off the ground to take another step, the weight of Puck's secret wearing him down, sucking the strength out of his body. But when he walked by Figgins' office, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned his head to the side, staring through the glass, trying to get a better look into the office on the other side of the two glass walls keeping him outside. Something had struck his mind when he'd walked by, he just thought that it was absolutely impossible for it to be true… but there they were, sitting opposite of Mr. Figgins, their backs turned towards Finn... he would recognize that haircut everywhere.

Finn didn't notice the smile suddenly spreading on his lips, taking over his face, finding its way into his eyes, while he stood glued to that same spot in front of the glass door, staring at the back of Puck's head. He couldn't explain the sudden feeling of relief washing over him, as if every single worry he'd went through these past three days had just disappeared, had become unimportant. But when Puck and Mr. Schue stood up, turned around and walked out of the office, a new worry found its way into his head, crept into his mind as soon as his eyes got sight of Puck's face, of the way Puck favored his left side, how he stared at the floor as if he was afraid to face the reality surrounding him. He didn't even look up when Mr. Schue opened the door and they stepped out into the hall. Mr. Schue did, though. The weekend must've been very exhausting, because Finn had never seen his teacher so worn out and tired before. It seemed as if Mr. Schue had aged years in a matter of days. There was nothing left of that kind spark in his eyes that used to light up his face whenever they performed, nothing left of the smile he wore almost every day, and no matter how hard Finn tried to find at least a hint, a last remainder of all that, there was just nothing.

The two of them walked past Finn without loosing a single word of explanation, without a notion that anything had even changed, and Finn was left standing in front of Figgins' office, more confused than he'd ever been before.

The last two hours of classes went by similar to the previous ones: Finn wasn't listening to anything any teacher had to say. But this time it wasn't because of the past week, but because of those few fleeting moments of his friends return, and Finn was still trying to understand the meaning of it, when the bell ended the lesson. But when he stood up, taking his bag and the books off the table, he'd made a decision… or rather found something that he could do next.

He walked through the hallway, looking for one person in particular, and although he'd never really had any trouble finding him before, it seemed as if someone or something was trying to prevent him from finding him this time. But after almost ten minutes of aimlessly walking through the school, he spotted him at his locker.

"He's back!", was all he got out when he finally caught up with Kurt.

"What do you mean? Who's back?" Kurt looked up, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Puck… he's here. At school. Or… at least, he was, I mean, I saw him leaving Figgins' office with Mr. Schue, but I don't know where they went, or -"

"Hold on… what do you mean: he's back? Wouldn't you have had English with him just now?"

"Yeah… I-" But Finn stopped for a second, not entirely sure if that was right. He'd just left the classroom, but he couldn't remember if it had been English… or if Puck had been there. Had he been so lost in thought, that he hadn't even realized, that Puck had been sitting in the same room with him? That wasn't possible, was it? "I really don't know. But I don't think so…"

"We can ask Mr. Schue at rehearsals tomorrow. He should be there, right?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't look so good. I mean, Puck looked a lot worse, but… I think this whole thing is really getting to him, you know? Like he should have seen it sooner, or something."

"None of us saw it… and we were all right there."

"Yeah, but… I don't know, I guess he feels kinda guilty because he helped me out with… stuff… and then that whole Karofsky thing and -" Finn's voice trailed off as he spotted the familiar haircut turning the corner on the other end of the hall and disappearing into the next corridor. He looked back to Kurt and without another word, they both started walking in the same direction that Puck had disappeared to. But when they left the school through the main entrance a few minutes later, they'd lost sight of him.

"Where do you reckon he went?", Kurt asked as they scanned the parking lot, that was now filling with students about to leave.

"I don't know…" That strange feeling in Finn's stomach started to built up again, as it had so many times these past few days. He spotted Brit and Santana, pinkies entwined, standing a few yards away next to a very old car, that seemed to have disappeared under a thick layer of rust just from standing around.

"Hey… you guys seen Puck?", Finn asked as he walked closer to the two cheerleaders.

"Yeah… he just left with some guy."

"'Some guy? Who was he?"

"Don't know… seemed angry, though. Probably some husband of his pool-cleaning ladies. They tend to get jealous…" Santana added.

"Finn, I don't think that that was an angry husband." Kurt's voice was low, as to prevent the two cheerleaders from overhearing what he had to say.

"Yeah… me neither." Finn couldn't keep the slight hint of panic out of his voice. "Santana… wait!"

The girls stopped and turned around again. "What?"

"Where… where did they go?"

"I don't know… somewhere over there?" She waved her hand in the direction of the second building. "Why do you even care? Are you guys like, back together or something?"

But neither Finn nor Kurt did even listen to that question. They'd already hurried off, looking around, but Puck seemed to have vanished. And then they suddenly heard something, that made them stop in their tracks.

"You're gonna go there and take it back… all of it!"

"And why would I do that? Don't tell me you're actually scared..."

"Don't you dare talk to me like that."

"Oh, but I am. And there's nothing you can do about that."

"You're sure about that?" The man's voice sounded vicious, and a moment later, they could hear someone wince. "Oh… I'm sorry… did that hurt?"

"Hey…" Finn yelled, suddenly waking up from the state of shock their conversation had put him in. He turned the corner and enter the small alley between the two school buildings, and when he walked past the dumpster, he finally saw them. Danny had Puck pressed against the wall, one hand gripped tightly around Puck's right shoulder, Puck's face contorted with pain.

"Leave him alone…"

Danny turned his head, a strange expression on his face. For a moment it even seemed as if he was trying to smile, but it was far too late to smooth this situation over, and he knew that. He let go of Puck and took a few steps away. "So what… you're not even able to fight your own battles anymore? Dumbo to the rescue…"

Puck didn't answer. He was holding his shoulder, the pain still far too real, even after Danny's hand was gone, and Puck just hoped that he hadn't ripped any of the stitches.

"I won't let you ruin my life, Noah!" The malice in Danny's voice was almost tangible, and something in his face… in his eyes… made his words sound even worse.

And then he walked away. Just like that.

"Hey man, you're alright?", Finn asked carefully, as he took a few steps closer to Puck.

But Puck still wasn't able to answer. All the color had drained from his face, the pale skin making the bad bruises stand out even more.

Kurt came to a halt next to Finn, a strange feeling of guilt overcoming him, as his eyes wandered over his former nemesis. He'd heard what Finn had told him about Danny, about what had been going on behind closed doors for over two years, but this was the first time, that he actually saw what that meant, the first time that he saw Puck this weak… defeated.

Whenever Puck had decided that it was Kurt's turn for another good dumpster toss, Kurt had wished that Puck would get some kind of punishment, that karma would get back at him. But this… no one deserved something like this.

"Is he okay?", Kurt asked, although he knew, that Puck was far from being okay, but he didn't know what else to say, and when Finn didn't answer, he rephrased his question. "Are you okay?"

Puck raised his head, slowly, as if he wasn't entirely back to reality. "W-what? Oh… yeah… yeah, I'm fine.", he said absently, trying to find the way back to his former self, to shake off the fear that was still holding him in its tight grip.

"You don't look like you're fine.", Kurt stated.

"It's nothing.", Puck tried to shrug it off, but his legs felt rather weak and he had to grab for the dumpster to keep himself steady. But the sudden movement of his arm just brought back the pain in his shoulder, and he'd probably have passed out right there and then, if Finn hadn't taken the last few steps towards him, grabbing his left arm, keeping him from stumbling to the ground.

"Maybe you should sit down for a second…", Finn said softly.

Puck nodded, as he tried to fight off the sudden dizziness, and slowly sat down on the ground. Finn sat down next to him, as did Kurt. Puck leaned his head against the cool wall and closed his eyes for a moment, not sure if that short moment of weakness had passed yet.

"At least he won't be able to bother me for much longer. I mean, the fact that he's here, is just proof that he's scared, so… I guess that's an improvement.", Puck said after a while, trying to break the silence that had spread between them.

"So… does that mean that you went to the police?", Finn asked, a hint of relief in his voice.

"Yeah… amongst others. I haven't talked that much in, like… ever. I can't even remember how many people I've talked to… I'm just not entirely sure if they believed me, though. I mean, that social worker probably did, but then… I mean… look at me. Any woman with half a heart would take pity on me." He took a deep breath, trying to forget the sad look in that woman's eyes, the kind of look that had been part of the reason that he'd never wanted to tell anyone, the kind of look that made him feel even more weak and helpless. "But I guess that it was a bit unfortunate that the police officer was the same guy who busted me after I drove into that convenience store. Didn't do much for my credibility. But they're doing something about it… at least they're looking into it. Don't really know what's going to happen, though. They're keeping him away from Sarah, for now… my mom, too, which is kinda cruel, I mean, she probably doesn't even know what's going on anymore, and-" Puck stopped for a second, realizing, that this conversation was already a few steps too far, since Finn and Kurt weren't even supposed to know about all this. Puck had already forgotten, that Finn had been there when Mr. Schue had found him wandering through the snow. "Wait... you two know about this?"

Finn looked down at the ground, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, as if Puck had caught him doing something forbidden. "Well, kinda… I was with Mr. Schue when… I mean, after you tried to run away. And when I got home…"

"I coerced him into telling me.", Kurt finished Finn's sentence.

"Who else?", Puck asked, a strange expression on his face, something halfway stuck between anger and tiredness. He didn't want to start a fight about this, knew, that it was far too late to try and hide anything, but feeling somehow betrayed, as if someone had just laid out his darkest secret for everyone to see.

"No one… I swear, I didn't tell anyone else!", Finn answered quickly, half expecting, half fearing, that Puck could start yelling at him.

But Puck did nothing of that sort. He just took another deep breath. "It's okay Finn… I'm not mad at you. It doesn't matter, anyway. They'll all find out eventually… I mean, I don't even know what'll happen if all this is over, if we can live with my mom again, or how this whole investigation thing even goes down. It's not like I've ever been in this situation before, I mean, for all I know, I could be back with them in a matter of weeks… I'm just not good with all that legal stuff, you know?" Puck ran a hand through his Mohawk, trying to think of anything else to say. His whole life had changed in a matter of days, and he still wasn't sure if he'd understood everything that had been going on. „Mr. Schue signed some kind of paperwork stuff so I could stay with him until this is sorted out, but don't ask me how that even works, because I have absolutely no idea. I guess they told me what's gonna happen next, but to be honest… I wasn't really listening to any of that. So… I'm just gonna wait until someone tells me otherwise."

"But shouldn't Danny be locked up or something?"

"I don't know… like I said: I have no idea how that whole thing works or what'll happen at the end of it. I just hope that I won't have to face him ever again…"

"But… I mean… he threatened you, didn't he? Aren't you afraid that he might try that again?" Finn sounded more worried than Puck thought fit.

"Nah… I think he's just not used to being pushed into a corner. Attacking me doesn't really benefit his credibility, and he knows that as well as I do… he won't try it again. He'll have something else figured out in a few days, some other way to get out of this."

"You're sure about that?", Finn asked, not entirely convinced.

"Yeah… pretty much. He can't risk someone else witnessing any of it, can he?."

"But… we witnessed it. We could, like, testify against him or something."

"I think they wanna question you anyway… but I could be wrong about that. Didn't really get that whole investigating thing." Puck stared down at the grey asphalt, trying to remember how those conversations had gone down. "At least Danny doesn't know where I'm staying… don't need him showing up at Mr. Schue's doorstep…"

"Hm… that explains it…", Finn said absently.

"Explains what?"

"Ehm…" Finn felt caught again, and he waited with his answer, as if he was hoping that Puck could just forget about it in the next few seconds. But Puck had raised his head and was staring at him in expectation of an answer. "Well… Burt said something about Danny showing up at our doorstep again, looking for you. I mean, I was sleeping at that time - at least I think I was - and I didn't tell Burt anything when he mentioned that later, but he seemed a bit worried… what with you showing up that one night and Danny looking for you yet again… It was kinda hard to lie to him. Don't know how you managed it for so long…"

Puck sighed. "Well, I guess I'm a natural… lying's always been easy for me. Though it was getting pretty hard after a while… don't know if I could still do it now. It's like I've lost that when I told Mr. Schue the truth."

There was another moment of silence, as the words sunk into their minds.

Puck suddenly felt really uncomfortable sitting on the ground. The dizziness had passed for now, and he made an attempt to get up. Finn obviously noticed that, stood up and helped him get back up. Kurt, too, got back to his feet, mumbling unheard words as he tried to get the dirt off of his pants.

"I should probably get back… I'm supposed to meet Mr. Schue at his car." Puck stared past the dumpster to the now almost empty parking lot.

They didn't say anything else as they walked back towards the few cars that were still standing in front of the school. Mr. Schue was already waiting, and, judging from the look on his face when he spotted Puck, he'd just started to get worried.

"See you tomorrow…"

"Yeah… see you.", Puck replied, before he turned away from the building and walked over to Mr. Schue, not knowing, that this was the last he would see of the school for a long time.

* * *

Author's note:

So... first off: Sorry for the delay. I know, it's been almost three weeks, and I never planed for that amount of time between chapters. University has just started again and it was a bit hard to keep up with the workload... the new job isn't doing my free time any good, either. (And my internet connection kinda keeps failing me, so... I had my reasons.)

But... good news... I guess: This chapter is the beginning of the finale, the prelude to the final confrontation... (and maybe that little break I've made could be seen as the calm before the storm... or something like that.)

I'll try to get my old updating rhythm back on track, but I just can't guarantee that right now...

And please let me know what you think! Reviews are always apreciated!

Thanks for reading!


	24. It's time for the truth

**It's time for the truth**

It was a strange evening. Finn couldn't really explain it beyond that… it was just strange.

It started at dinner. There was nothing special about it, at least not at first. They all gathered in the kitchen, sat down at the table and started eating, telling each other of their day. But Finn and Kurt both left out a few parts of it, didn't even say more than the usual before they tried to bring the conversation to something else, like football or regionals, anything that would hide the fact that they were both having a hard time holding on to Puck's secret, the secret that seemed to destroy everything that got in its way.

And then the doorbell rang. It was nothing unusual, a common noise in any house like this. But somehow, it felt different… wrong even, as if that shrill noise was the herald of something bad, something dark and evil. Finn couldn't say why that noise made him jump, why it shook him to his core.

"I'll get that…", he said, and got up, just so he could do something to shake that unnerving feeling in his stomach, but when he opened the door, his insides seemed to disappear, leaving nothing but a black hole.

It was like déjà vu. But in a really, really bad way. Finn was instantly pulled back to that Sunday morning, when they'd sat at the breakfast table and Danny had shown up to collect his prey. Back then, Danny had been smiling, had been friendly and calm. Finn had instantly liked him - and had felt very guilty for feeling that way when he'd found out what had really been going on at Puck's home. But the concern Danny had shown that morning had been so genuine, so convincing, that Finn wasn't even surprised that he had gotten away with this for so long.

But Danny wasn't smiling now. There was no sign that he was even capable of that.

"Is he here?" His voice didn't sound angry… just neutral. It wasn't threatening, not in the slightest, but still… it scared Finn more than anything.

"No.", Finn said quickly, before he tried to shut the door, but Danny held his hand against the door, before Finn was able to close it completely.

"I just need to talk to him.", Danny continued, in an almost pleading manner.

"He has nothing to say to you…", Finn said, his voice as forceful as possible. He didn't want to talk to that man, didn't want to listen to anything he had to say.

"I just want to tell him how sorry I am…"

Finn shook his head in disbelief. Those words just sounded so wrong coming out of that man's mouth. "It's way too late for that! And besides… no one's gonna believe anything you gotta say, especially not him."

"But… I really am sorry. I don't know what's gotten in to me… I never meant to hurt him!" The way Danny stood on the front porch, that desperate look in his eyes… he just looked so pathetic, and Finn had a hard time remembering, that this man was someone he was supposed to be scared of, that this man could turn into a raging monster in a matter of seconds.

"Are you even listening to yourself? Two years… and you expect him to believe that you didn't mean it? In what kind of fairytale do you think you live?" Finn didn't know where he'd found the courage to talk to Danny like that. The words just got over his lips before he had even time to think about them, before he had the slightest chance of stopping them.

"Please… I just want to talk to him. He just needs to take it back. I won't touch him, I swear. I'll even pay for him to move out, he doesn't have to stay with us if he doesn't want to… I just… I can't loose them!"

"You really think he's gonna fall for that? Aren't you supposed to be smart or something? And anyway, he's never gonna let them stay with you… and I don't think that his sister even wants to after what you did to her…" It felt good, so good to say it out loud, to finally stand up for Puck… even if it was just by saying these words.

"I've never hurt her… it was an accident!" Danny's hand was still pressed against the door.

"Which you probably blamed on him…", Finn replied.

"No… no, I didn't. I told them that it was an accident!", Danny tried to defend himself.

"But his mom doesn't know that, does she? She still think that it was his fault, when it was actually yours."

"Alright… it was, but I didn't mean for it to happen. I just didn't want her to leave… she means everything to me… she's my little girl." There were tears glistering in Danny's eyes, but Finn had a feeling that even those tears were fake... that they were just another addition to this well rehearsed speech.

"She's not!", he spat out, barely able to keep the anger under control.

"Please… give me a chance to make this right…"

"Oh hell no…" The anger finally got the better of him. "This is so beyond the point where you could make it right."

"_Tell me_!" Danny's voice was suddenly filled with so much restrained rage, that Finn instinctively took a step back.

"Finn? What's going on?" Burt had obviously heard them arguing and a moment later, he was standing next to Finn, a startled look on his face.

Danny's behavior changed in an instant, as if someone had just flipped a switch, and thus proving Finn's assumption that it had all been an act. "Good evening Mr. Hummel. I'm so sorry to barge in on you, but Noah's run off again, and…"

"And you thought he'd be here?", Burt asked, frowning.

"Yeah, well… I know that he wasn't on Saturday, but… I just didn't know where else to go. I'm just worried that he got himself in trouble again. He's been acting differently lately, and I'm afraid that he might do something that could land him back in juvie. He's just not good with rules, and… I don't know, I don't think he's really accepted me enough to listen to me. He's been acting out and -"

"Oh shut up… just SHUT UP!"

Danny actually flinched at the sudden outburst, and Burt just looked at Finn as if he'd never seen him before. He was just speechless.

"He's not acting out, he's not getting into trouble, he doesn't have some kind of teenager problem… YOU are his problem!" Finn's voice was getting louder with each word coming over his lips. He didn't care that Burt stared at him as if he was scared that Finn had suddenly lost his mind, didn't care that his words had lured his mom and Kurt out of the kitchen. All he could see was the exaggeratedly shocked expression on Danny's face, and the only thing keeping him from slamming his fist into it, was Burt's hand on his arm. He tried to fight him off, but Burt suddenly stood between him and Danny, pushing Finn a few inches back into the house.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Finn… what the hell's gotten into you?" Burt had a hard time holding Finn back, as Finn tried to get at Danny again.

"He's a liar, that's what this is about!", Finn got out through gritted teeth.

"What?" Burt stared at him for a second, obviously confused. Danny being a liar didn't seem to be a good enough reason for Finn to behave like this.

"A liar… a pretty good one." Finn took a few steps away from them, trying to fight off the urge to make another attempt on getting past Burt. "But that's gonna end… and you know it! You won't stand a chance!"

"Finn… could you please tell me what you're talking about?", Burt asked once again, overwhelmed by the events unraveling right in front of him.

"Sure…" Finn's voice sounded strange, as if it didn't belong to him anymore. "This guy right here? His smile… his concern... It's all fake. He doesn't care about Puck. Never has."

"Of course I do… why else would I be here?" Danny had a worried expression on his face, but Finn saw right through it.

"Because you're scared that Puck might actually win this fight… that they're all gonna find out what you did."

"I don't know what he told you, but I can assure you, that I have never done anything but care for him."

"Unbelievable…" Finn shook his head. "You still think I'd believe you? Even now, after I've actually seen you? You think I'm stupid? You think they won't believe me because I'm just a teenager?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Hummel, but there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding. Finn must've interpreted something wrong, or maybe Puck told him some lie about me because he's mad at me. We had a little fight last weekend, and instead of talking about it, he ran off again… I've told him times and times again, that it's not healthy to hold on to all that anger, but does he listen? You know how they are. You probably have to deal with it all the time, having two teenagers under your roof. They just get themselves into trouble a lost faster than we're able to sort it out, am I right? I mean, I remember when I was their age -"

But Burt cut him off. "Stop it!"

"What?" Danny actually seemed taken aback. He obviously wasn't used to anyone stopping him from finishing with his lies.

"You can stop schmoozing me. I had a bad feeling about you the moment you stepped into my kitchen last Sunday. You're just a little bit too smooth to be for real. And I don't like people who talk much without sayin' anything. I might not know what this is really about, but I got enough to know that I don't want you anywhere near my house anymore…" Burt's whole behavior seemed to have changed. There was no more confusion audible in his voice, nothing left of that puzzled expression on his face. Just that determined look in his eyes that meant that it was getting dangerous to try and cross him.

"Mr. Hummel, please. Don't let their teenage behavior get out of hand. They might think that they can get away with it and -"

"You're done talkin', mister.", Burt said forcefully. "Puck's not here! And even if he were, I wouldn't tell you. I might not be very fond of the kid, hell, back in the day, I'd even wished he'd be thrown out of that school… but he's changed. And even if I might never be able to really forgive him for what he did to my son, I'd still protect him from scum like you…"

"I don't know what you're talking about!", Danny insisted, still trying to fight the already lost battle. There was just no way that he'd be able to convince Burt of his innocence.

"Oh, but you do. And I'm _that_ close to giving you a taste of your own medicine." Burt took a step towards Danny, his whole demeanor enough to scare off even the bravest man.

But Danny was still not giving up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've seen that bruise on the kids face… and the way he looked at you that morning? I didn't really see it back then, but he was scared as hell."

"I never laid a hand on him… never!" It was a last attempt to turn this conversation around, but even Danny should've realized by now, that there was absolutely no chance for him to win this argument.

"Get out of here, NOW… before I forget my manners."

And Danny walked away… or rather: ran, like a scared little dog.

Burt closed the door. For a moment, he just stood there, the withheld anger still visible on his face. "We need to talk."

Carole and Kurt were standing a few meters away from them, both obviously shocked by what had just happened, but unlike Carole, Kurt knew what all this had been about. They went back into the kitchen. Finn was still a little out of it, when he sat back down. Kurt followed his example, but neither Burt nor Carole seemed to be able to calm down enough to sit.

"So… you both knew about this?", Burt asked, as he stood near the door, arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face.

But they didn't answer. Finn just kept staring at the half-eaten food that was getting colder with each moment passing by. Kurt didn't dare to look up, either. He seemed to find his hands much more interesting at the moment.

"How long did you know?", Burt tried again. He wasn't about to just drop this.

"Since Wednesday… well, Thursday morning." Kurt's voice echoed through the kitchen, that seemed eerily empty right now, as if it had lost all its warmth and comfort over the last half hour.

"So… from what I remember, that guy's been living with Puck and his mom for over two years, and none of you guys ever noticed anything?" It almost sounded like an allegation, but Finn couldn't be too sure about that… but then he couldn't stop the heat from boiling up inside him, either, couldn't shake off the guilt eating away on his insides. "I thought you were his best friend, Finn…"

"I was… I am, but… it's not like it's _my _fault." Finn couldn't explain the sudden need to defend himself. "I already feel bad enough as it is…"

"Yeah, I know… I'm sorry. It's just… it only took me a week to figure it out, and you guys saw him almost every day. It's just beyond me how you could miss something like that."

"Can someone please tell me what this is about?", Carole asked even though she already had a pretty good idea what this was about… she just wasn't ready to accept it.

"Yeah… yeah, this is about your son not being able to notice that his best friend's in trouble."

Carole looked from Burt to her son and back again, the accusing tone in Burt's voice almost too much for her to handle. "What?"

"That boyfriend of his mother… he's no prince charming. And they didn't see anything."

Carole just stood there for a moment, before the realization hit her with all its force and she had to sit down, her legs suddenly too weak to keep her upright for much longer.

"So… what did he tell you?", Burt asked, completely ignoring Carole's reaction.

Finn raised his head, a puzzled look on his face, not sure, if he'd understood that question right.

"Last sunday... that couldn't have been the first time he'd had bruises on his face…"

"It wasn't, but…"

"But what, Finn?" Burt seemed to get even angrier.

"I don't know… he was very convincing. I mean, how should I have known that something like this was going on? I would've helped him if he'd just told me… but he didn't..."

"Of course he didn't. Guys like him don't talk about that stuff, they don't ask for help… but that doesn't mean that they don' need it!"

"Enough!" Carole's voice sounded harsher than she'd meant for it to be. But she just couldn't listen to this any longer. "It's not their fault…"

"I didn't say it was."

"Then stop blaming them for it! They're just kids. They're not even supposed to know that things like this actually happen!"

"Can you two please stop talking about us like we're not here?", Finn said meekly.

Burt and Carole looked at each other for a moment, but then Burt nodded, letting them off the hook. "Alright… just, tell us what's going on. Why is Danny looking for Puck? Where is he?"

"He's with Mr. Schue until this whole thing is over.", Finn repeated Puck's words from that morning.

"So he talked to someone?", Burt wanted to know.

"Yeah…" And then Finn started telling them everything that had happened over the last week, about Puck running out of Mr. Schue's office, about the accident when he'd tried to get away from home, even about Puck's plan to skip town. "And now Danny's trying to convince him to revise his statement. He even showed up at school this morning… it got real scary for a moment. I mean, I don't know what he would've done if we hadn't shown up when we did…"

"He's gettin' desperate. That's not good…" Burt's voice trailed off, as if he'd just remembered something. "That's really not good…"

Silence was filling the room as they all got lost in their thoughts. And it was Burt who broke it again. "You should call him… tell him that that guy showed up here. I mean, from what you've told us, Danny doesn't know where Puck is, but he might've found out by now."

Finn didn't answer, he just got off his chair and left the kitchen, the cell phone already in his hand.

Burt let out a deep breath and shook his head.

"You seem to know a lot more about things like this than you're letting us know…" Carole's voice was calm, a bit worried even, and it was clear from the look on her face, that she was still having a hard time digesting all the information Finn had given them.

"I don't…", Burt said quickly, but they all knew, that it was a lie. His whole behavior over the last few minutes, the misdirected anger, was proof enough.

"There was this kid at our school… Wide Receiver on the football team, well liked by the ladies, and always getting' in trouble." Burt's voice was hanging in the air, the words foreboding the story that would soon follow. "I guess he was a lot like Puck. And one day he just stopped showing up at school. No one knew where he was or if something had happened to him, and no one really cared. He was a douche, and although he was quite popular, he didn't have any real friends looking out for him. A week later we found out that he'd been in the hospital the entire time after he'd tried to stop his dad from beating the crap out of his mom." Burt swallowed hard. "He never woke up."

There was a shocked silence, while his words sunk into their minds, stirring up the untold horrors of that teenager's life.

"We'd all ignored the signs. He'd shown up at school with all kinds of bruises and other injuries for months before that happened, but since he'd always been getting into fights, none of us ever asked him about that." Burt sadly shook his head. "That kid died because no one cared to look close enough… and that's just something you never forget."

"What happened to his dad?", Finn asked, making them all jump. None of them had realized that he'd been standing in the door, listening to Burt's every word, the phone still clutched in his hand.

"Nothing."

"W- what?" Finn couldn't believe it.

"He got away with it…"

"But… how?"

"Beats me. There'd been that whole investigation afterwards, but his wife was too terrified to testify against him and he somehow managed to lie his way out of it. As far as I know, it had been an accident, and the things had led up to it got so twisted in the end, that they couldn't really proof that it had been his fault…"

"Then how do you even know what really happened?", Kurt asked, hoping that his dad wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"Everyone knew. We all put the pieces together. It just wasn't enough."

The atmosphere in the kitchen had become more and more depressing, and nothing seemed to be able to change that. The food had gone cold, but none of them could even think about eating right now. They'd lost their appetite along with the good mood that had filled the room just half an hour before.

"I couldn't reach him.", Finn said after a while, when he remembered the phone call he'd tried to make. "Just his voice mail." But Finn didn't know, that Puck's phone was still lying besides the road on West Elm Street, where Puck had left it almost a week ago, where it had slipped into the snow.

"We can tell him tomorrow. I don't think that Danny's going to try anything tonight.", Kurt said absently, his mind still occupied with the story his dad had just told them.

"Yeah… you're probably right." But Finn didn't really believe his own words. He just had a very bad feeling about this, and his mom seemed to notice that.

"Something wrong, honey?", she asked softly.

"No… I mean, I don't know. It's just…" He didn't know how to put it into words, how to express that unsettling feeling in his stomach. "I'd just like to make sure he's okay…"

"You want to drive over there?"

"Yeah… yeah, I think I do."

"Take the car. Just… let us know when you get there."

Finn nodded. "Thanks…", he said and left. A few minutes later, they heard the front door closing behind him, the sudden noise breaking the silence that had once again spread out in the kitchen.

"Thank you… both of you." Kurt's voice was low, the words almost getting lost on their way over his lips.

"For what?", Carole asked softly.

"For being the way you are… for not turning out like Puck's mom."

* * *

Author's note:

Okay... I know that I didn't resolve that cliffhanger from the last chapter, but I just needed this! I just love Burt and Carole so much... especially protective!Burt.

So, I kinda fell in love with this chapter while writing it, though my favorites are still 'Scars and Bruises' and 'Home sweet home' (and one of the following ones... but I don't want to spoil anything, so I'm gonna shut up now!)

Thanks so much for all your kind reviews! And please, feel free to leave me lots and lots of new comments!


	25. The calm before the storm

**The calm before the storm**

It was a quiet evening. Very quiet. But that wasn't at all surprising, was it? The only thing they'd talked about these last few days was the one thing they both didn't want to talk about anymore. And they'd probably said everything that was to say about it anyway. And beyond that, they didn't really have anything to say to each other. Of course, they could've talked about glee or anything in that direction, but Will found that talking to Puck didn't come as easy to him as it did with Finn. He tried anyway, but no matter what subject he brought up, Puck didn't seem interested in any conversation, and after Puck's answers had gone from being short sentences over 'yes' and 'no' to no answer at all, Will gave up. He tried to convince himself that, given the situation, it was understandable that Puck wasn't very talkative, but, deep down, he knew, that it wouldn't have been any different, if Danny hadn't been in the picture - but in that case, Will wouldn't have to try, because… well, Puck wouldn't be at his apartment right now.

It wasn't just that evening, though. The whole weekend, Will had asked himself, if he'd made the right decision, if it had been the right decision to take Puck in… and he'd felt guilty all the same, for even thinking something like that, because, after all, there wasn't an alternative right now, and just because they didn't have that connection, didn't mean that this was the wrong place for Puck to be. After all, it was save.

Puck had barely said a word ever since they'd met up in the school parking lot, and Will hadn't pushed him, and they ate their dinner in silence. They'd ordered Chinese food, or rather Will had ordered it, and somehow the food seemed to make everything even worse. The teacher didn't ask why Puck wouldn't touch his foor, tried to tell himself, that Puck just wasn't hungry, but the way the teenager stared down at his food, how his eyes wandered over to the living room again and again… it was almost, as if it reminded him of something, something he didn't want to remember, and Will just couldn't figure out why something as simple as food could do that to him.

To say that Will was glad when Finn showed up around eight, would be an understatement. But it didn't really change anything... on the contrary. For a moment, it even seemed as if Finn was surprised that Will opened the door. The teenager was a little bit out of breath, as if he'd been running for quite a while… or at least up the stairs. But Will didn't even have time to ask him about that, or even to utter a word as to why Finn was showing up at his apartment at this time.

"Is he here?", Finn asked quickly without any further explanation.

"In the living room…", Will answered and, a second later, wondered about the scared look that suddenly appeared on Finn's face.

"You let him in?" Finn's voice sounded shocked, and before Will could stop him, he'd rushed past him into the apartment while the teacher still tried to figure out what this was all about. Finn's words definitely weren't of help with brushing away his confusion.

"Who are you talking about?", he asked, utterly bewildered, while Finn crossed the room and hurried to the living room, where he stopped in the door. He stared at Puck sitting on the couch and obviously not in the least disturbed by their voices.

"Finn… what is this all about?", Will asked as soon as he'd caught up with him. But Finn didn't answer. At least, not right away. He seemed to be struggling to understand the situation, though he probably knew a lot more about it than Will, who just came up blank trying to piece it all together.

"Danny…" It was just a word, but somehow, that name seemed to have more impact than it should. One single word wasn't supposed to cause for your hear to skip a few beats, wasn't supposed to freeze the blood in your veins, wasn't supposed to put that worried and scared look on your face. But it did. That name had somehow grown into a bad omen, into something that seemed to be connected with everything bad and evil.

However, it made Will none the wiser, but before he could ask for further explanation, Finn had turned back around. "He showed up again… at our house. And after what happened this morning… I couldn't reach Puck on his cell, so… I had to make sure you're both ok."

"Of course we are…", Will said discomposedly, the situation making even less sense than it had moments before. "Why wouldn't we be? Wait- What did you mean with 'this morning'? What happened?" He looked from Finn to Puck, who was still amazingly unaware of their conversation.

"Didn't he tell you?", Finn asked, a startled expression on his face.

"Tell me _what_?" The teacher seemed almost helpless trying to get his mind to keep up with the information. "Puck… what didn't you tell me?"

But Puck still wasn't listening, didn't even look up. In fact, it seemed as if he was somewhere else entirely.

Will took a few determined steps towards the couch until he was blocking Puck's view on whatever he was staring at. But it still took a while for Puck to realize, that Will was talking to him.

"What happened this morning?", the teacher asked again.

"Danny showed up at school…", Finn answered before Puck even had the chance to open his mouth.

Puck turned around in his seat, obviously surprised to see Finn standing there. "When did you get here?"

Neither Finn nor Will answered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The teacher's voice sounded strange, almost disappointed.

"I didn't think it was that important…", Puck tried to shrug it off, but the look on his face told a whole different story.

"Of course it's important. Everything that has to do with that man is important. This is far from being over, and he knows that as well as we do!", Will blurted out, not able to hold back his frustration. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to convince me to change my story… but I ain't doing that, so, no problem there…" Puck was still trying to play down the situation, even though the mere thought of that morning, of that scary expression on Danny's face, made his insides squirm as if someone had just dropped a bunch of snakes in his stomach. He got off the couch in an attempt to get rid of them, but if anything, it made it even worse, and he started to feel rather sick.

"We got there just in time… I don't know what that guy would've done if we hadn't been there." Finn almost stumbled over his tongue trying to get the words over his lips as quickly as possible, as if underlining the seriousness in Danny showing up at school.

"Oh, yeah… Finn the hero. Like I needed rescuing…" Puck didn't seem ready to acknowledge their worry, or to even make an attempt of understanding it.

"You did!", Finn said forcefully.

"If you say so…" There was a hint of amusement in his voice, or maybe it was sarcasm, Finn couldn't tell. He just knew that he didn't like Puck's answer… not at all.

"What the hell is wrong with you?", he asked with a frown.

"Nothing… absolutely nothing."

"Don't say it's nothing, because no one's believing that shit anymore…"

"What… so I'm a bit on edge… I think I'm allowed to be right now… don't you?"

"There's something else…" Finn tried again.

"You're sure about that?"

"Yeah, actually, I am. I mean, I might not have been there before, but I am now!"

"Wow, thank you…"

The sarcasm didn't go unnoticed. Not even to Finn.

"What is your problem?"

"You are… both of you." Puck didn't care that he was almost yelling, didn't care that Finn took a step back, surprised and shocked by Puck's sudden outburst, his lips forming a silent 'what', while Mr. Schue just stood on the same spot next to the couch, obviously rendered speechless by the sudden turn in this conversation.

"I thought I'd be okay with it, but you're all acting like I'm a little kid who can't do anything… as if I'm gonna get killed as soon as I step out the door."

Finn hadn't expected that answer. In fact, it was the last thing he'd expected. That same morning, Puck had seemed to be okay with Finn and Kurt knowing about it, and now it almost sounded as if he was having second thoughts about that.

"I mean, my mere presence used to scare people, or at least the kids at school, and the way both of you looked at me this morning… especially Kurt… it's like I've become some helpless puppy or something, and that's just not right…" Puck had an almost pained expression on his face. "Sooner or later, they'll all gonna find out… and… I just don't know if I can deal with that."

"What do you think is gonna happen? What're you so scared of?"

"Nothing… I just don't want people to look at me like that…"

"Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Why is it so hard for you that there are people who're worried about you?" Finn's voice sounded somewhat confused, mirroring the expression on his face.

"Because I don't want them to!", Puck stated rather desperately. "I don't want people to be worried, I don't want anyone to change the way they look at me, I don't want them to think twice about what they're gonna say to me because they're afraid I might get some kind of flashback or something… I don't want to become that kid that's too weak to defend himself." Puck almost stumbled over his own words. "The school is the only place where I still am someone… and I don't want to loose that… I _can't _loose that!"

"Why are you so sure you will?"

Puck just shook his head in disbelief. "You think any of those dweebs is even gonna acknowledge my existence after this gets out? And guys like Azimio and Karofsky… you think they're just gonna let me forget about it? No… they're the kind of guys that don't stop kicking after you hit the ground…"

A sudden silence followed those words leaving Puck's words hanging in the air, giving them more impact than they ought to have.

Puck shook his head absently, his voice sounding rather desperate when he broke the silence again. "I just wish I'd taken that stupid bus…"

"Then why didn't you?"

Puck stared at Finn for a second, startled, not entirely sure how to take that question. Finn's voice almost sounded angry, as if there was something else implied into that question that Finn somehow didn't want to put into words. But only a moment later, Finn seemed to have found the courage to say it...

"I mean, did you ever intend to tell anyone? Like, say goodbye or something?" Finn's voice was getting louder as the frustration over this whole situation took over. All the pain and anger of being left behind by his best friend, all the emotion that had built up over the weekend suddenly burst out of him, and Finn had no way of controlling it any longer.

"It's like that night we found you was the last time I saw you, and that's just not right… you're my best friend and you were just gonna leave as if none of us mean anything to you…"

"That's not true!"

"Sure it is… I mean, there's a bunch of people willing to help you, and you decide to skip town-"

"But I didn't!", Puck cut him off.

"Yeah… so what changed your mind? I mean, Mr. Schue didn't, and none of your friends seem to be important enough to be a reason for you to stay… so… what changed your mind?"

"I don't know… I guess I just… I was done running." Puck didn't like the way Finn was talking to him, didn't like being pushed into another corner, didn't want to have to explain himself…

"Then what is your problem? Why are you still getting _so _pissed at anyone who wants to help you?" Finn's voice was finally calming down… at least a little bit.

"Nothing… everything… I don't know." Puck stared down at his feet, trying to avoid Finn's eyes. "It's like there's this thing hanging over me and you're all scared of it… you don't even know what to say to me anymore, as if everything just changed over night…"

"But everything _has_ changed. You think it's easy for us? It's like you're this whole different person…"

"Right… like you'd handle it any better…" Puck snapped back. "Oh, wait… you haven't actually _been _in such a fucked up situation before…", he went on. "You should really try it sometime… it's freakin' awesome!"

"Puck, enough with the sarcasm… I think he got your point." Will had finally found his voice again.

"Sure he did…", Puck snorted, but neither of them was keen on starting this argument all over again, so they let his comment slide.

There was a knock at the door, but nobody heard it. Not at first anyway. It was just a faint noise that had nothing to do with them or this conversation.

"What did Danny want at your house, anyway?", Will asked in an attempt to get this whole situation back to a point that didn't involve yelling or hurt feelings.

"To know where Puck is… tried to convince me that he was sorry and stuff. He was almost pleading with me, which was kinda creepy if you ask me… but when Burt showed up, he changed his act and started to play the concerned parent or whatever. But he didn't get very far with that, either."

"So… they know, too?" Puck didn't have to clarify who 'they' were, it was obvious that he was talking about Burt and Carole.

Finn didn't answer, though. He just stared down at his feet, as if he was secretly hoping that he wouldn't have to answer that question. But Finn didn't really have to confirm it… his behavior was saying enough.

Puck swallowed hard. "Great… just what I need…"

Knocking. Again. Louder this time, more present, more urgent. It seemed to disrupt the little world they'd built up around themselves, to intrude into that small room that was constantly filling with more and more people as Puck's secret slowly found it's way through the thick walls of lies and out into the world.

It took Will a few moments to register the noise as what it was, and another one for him to actually go and answer the door. He walked out of the living room, so lost in thought, his mind still on the conversation that was continuing in his absence, that he didn't even care to ask who it was. He just opened the door… and regretted that decision only seconds later.


	26. Plea of insanity

**Plea of insanity**

Danny.

The last person he'd ever want to see standing in front of his door. The last person he'd ever want to see _anywhere_ but behind bars.

But there he was. Right in front of him. Staring at him with those piercing blue eyes, his hair disheveled, standing off in all directions, his clothes crumbled, so unlike his usual sleek and confident appearance that Will might've had sympathy for him if it weren't for that scary expression on his face. This was not the man who'd greeted him at the door the other night, there was no smile, no concern - fake or not - on that man's face anymore. Even his voice seemed to have changed over the last week.

"Where is he…?" Danny asked, his voice calm, matter-of-factly, as if he was just asking someone for directions. His breath was reeking of alcohol though, and Will had to fight the urge to take a step back to avoid that sickening smell. He didn't answer. He just tried to shut the door as quickly as possible. But Danny put his foot between the door and the frame before Will had time to close it.

"I said: Where is he…?"

"He's not here…", Will got out between gritted teeth.

"Oh, but I know that he is. I saw that tall, stupid friend of his enter this building just a few minutes ago. And he knocked at your door, so unless you've got some kind of party going on here, I'm pretty sure that Noah's the reason for him coming here..."

"You got the wrong door!"

"No, I don't!"

Will tried to close the door again, but Danny's fingers were clutched around the door, and for some reason, Will had qualms to just close it anyway, even though he knew perfectly well what that man was capable of… what he had done. And his hesitation gave Danny the chance to get his shoulder between the door and the frame.

"I just need to talk to him… nothing more."

"I say it again: you got the wrong door!" It was getting harder and harder to keep Danny from entering, and Will threw a glance into the direction of the living room, hoping that Finn might've noticed the argument by now, that he would help him. He didn't dare yell for him, fearing that Puck might get there, too. And he certainly didn't want Danny to know that Puck was there, even though he was almost sure by now that he would never be able to convince Danny otherwise.

"But you are Mr. Schuester, right? The man who brought Noah home the other night, the one who was at the hospital with him after he pushed his sister down the stairs… the one who fills these kids heads with all kinds of stupid ideas about being proud of who they are…" His voice had something deprecatory in it, and at the last part, it almost sounded amused, as if he was talking about something particularly funny, or even stupid.

"Leave or I'll call the police…" Will desperately tried to ignore the hopelessness of this situation, now almost putting his whole weight against the door.

"And what're you gonna tell them? I'm just a concerned parent looking for his kid… there's nothing wrong with that…"

Those words came as a surprise. Not that Will hadn't expected Danny to try and lie his way out of this, but even Danny should've realized by now that no one, not even the police, would believe his stories anymore. Especially with that investigation hanging over his head.

"He's not your kid… and even if, I wouldn't let you anywhere near him!" Will was determined not to let Danny come through the door, but it was getting harder with every second passing by.

"Well, I guess you're right about that…" And with those words, Danny slammed against the door with so much force, that it finally gave way. Will was pushed back by the sudden impact and stumbled backwards.

"You know what… I lied!" Danny's voice was low, dangerous, like the growl of a dog about to attack. "I don't just want to talk to him. He's been a thorn in my flesh right from the start. I mean, I was patient, very patient, with him -" Danny crossed the threshold and took the first few steps into the apartment. "- and how does he thank me? By going to the police… as if they're gonna believe a word he said…"

"They obviously believed enough or you wouldn't be here right now…" Will tried to keep his voice as steady as possible, but it was a lot harder than he'd thought. Danny was at least a head taller than him, and the way he kept taking only a few slow steps at a time made him appear even more threatening.

"Yeah… I can see why you would think that. But until this morning, everything was under control. Until his mother stabbed me in the back…" A few more steps, a little closer. "And I can tell you… that really hurt."

Will didn't really listen to the words… just the voice. It didn't even sound real anymore. He could almost feel the malice piercing through his skin, the madness filling the air. That man was way beyond the point where he would listen to reason, beyond anything rational. The teacher took a short glance at the phone that stood on the table near the door, even though he knew that he would never get to it. Danny obviously noticed the slightly panicked look in his eyes, because a moment later, he grabbed the cable and ripped it out of the wall.

"Just to make sure…", he added unnecessarily. "But to get back on topic…" Danny was talking as if this was just some business meeting, as if he wanted to make a big sale, while at the same time, he couldn't have looked more distressed and distraught. It almost seemed like he was shifting back and forth between two totally different persons, not sure which one he actually wanted to be right now. "Unless Noah takes it all back, I'm sort of screwed… I won't just lose my family, no… I'll lose everything I have. I mean, who'll do all those nice and honest people's taxes when I'm gone?"

"Like you're the only tax accountant in this city…"

"Good point. Very good point, indeed. But my clients trust me… and trust is hard to get these days. Imagine what they would have to live through when they find out that the man who's doing their taxes might have to go to jail. I don't think they'll like it very much when they find out that there are a lot of holes in their tax reports… some of them might even get ruined. And we can't have that on our conscience, now, can we?"

Will had no idea why Danny was telling him that. It didn't make sense… not at all. "So… you stole money from innocent people?"

"Well, none of us are really innocent… Mr. Talbert, for example. He actually tried to get his new BMW by as a company car. I mean, he got an internet shop for spare car parts, and he only does postal deliveries. Most of them are probably stolen anyway… and Mrs. Adams lives off of two retirement pensions, because of a clerical error three years ago. Everyone is stealing money… I only tried to get my share. And with all those hospital bills coming into the house… how else were I supposed to pay for that?"

Even though none of his words made any sense, even though the things he said weren't at all threatening, Will didn't dare take his eyes off Danny, anticipating that one moment, when Danny would finally crack. But that moment didn't come… at least not yet.

"You see, I'm not really the bad guy here… I only tried to feed my family, and to keep them together. Noah just can't understand that… never could. He always wanted to destroy it, giving his mom so much grief… what kind of son does that?"

Will had backed away with every step Danny had taken towards him, and without realizing it, he'd reached the living room. He could hear Finn's and Puck's sudden gasps behind him, but didn't dare turn around.

"Mr. Schue-", Finn started, but Will held up a hand to keep him silent, his eyes still fixed on Danny.

"Look who we have here…" Danny's voice had an almost greeting manner about it.

There was a tense atmosphere in in the room, as if they were all waiting for something to happen.

The strange thing was, though, that they were in the majority, three to one… but still, none of them dared make the first move. And it wasn't fear that held them back, Danny didn't even have a weapon as far as they could see, and it would be easy enough for one of them to call the police if things should get out of hand… no, something else was keeping them from just overpowering him. For one, of course, even with their superiority in number, there was still the risk of someone getting hurt. And then, Danny wasn't actually threatening any one of them, so there was absolutely no reason to take action… right?

At least those were the thoughts running through Will's mind when he came to a halt at the back of the couch.

"What do you want…" Puck's voice was more calm than it had ever been, but when Will turned around for a second, he saw that all the color had drained from Puck's face, and even though there was no fear audible in his voice, it was clearly visible in his eyes.

"Oh, nothing… just what I've told you this morning… a few little words, a little lie or two… to get your story straight. As a little thank-you for all the trouble I had with you…"

"What?" Puck almost didn't know what to say to that. "You actually expect me to be thankful to you? For what? For beating the crap out of me every chance you got? For making my life a living hell? Are you out of your mind?"

That seemed to be exactly what Danny was… out of his mind. And his next words underlined that even more. "See what I mean?" He turned his attention back to Will, an uneven smile spread on his lips. "Even now, after he's destroyed everything I've worked for… he still dares to talk back to me."

Puck gave a depreciatory snort and shook his head in disbelief, causing Danny to give him another dangerous glare. "Ungrateful little brat…", he spat out, his up until now almost reserved behavior finally dripping off of him. "Who paid all your medical bills? Who took care of your mom and your sister after you screwed up so bad that they sent you to juvie?"

"Wow…" Puck was actually speechless for a moment. "This is so… wow…" If this situation hadn't been so serious, Puck would've started laughing... this whole thing was just so surreal…

"You're insane…" Will's voice was shaking slightly, as if he'd only just now caught up with the events taking place right in front of him, as if he'd only just now realized that Danny had crossed the line of sanity, although that line was already so far away that it wasn't even visible anymore.

But his words didn't seem to bother Danny in the least… on the contrary. They brought another wide smile on his face, contorting his face into a sick and twisted grimace, not much unlike that of the joker… it didn't even seem to be from this world anymore.

"The love of my life just put a knife into my back, and I'm about to loose everything… I think I'm allowed to be a little bit insane right now… don't you? And you better drop that…", he added, his head suddenly turning to face Finn, who had just pulled out his cell phone. But the sudden movement and Danny's harsh voice took him by surprise, and it slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor.

It was as if Danny's mere presence was enough to keep them all under control, and Finn asked himself how Burt had managed to chase him away. But maybe he wouldn't have been able to do that if Danny had been sure that Puck had taken refuge at their house. Either way, it was too late to change any of it. The only thing that was important right now, was the fact, that neither of them dared to make another move…

"Insane or not, I ain't changing my story! I'm not afraid of you anymore…" Puck's voice was almost convincing, but the faint panic lying underneath, that slight shiver, didn't go unnoticed… to no one.

"If you say so…"

Once again, Will was surprised by the calmness surrounding Danny despite the words that came over his lips. But he had no doubt that Danny's behavior could change in an instant.

"Yeah, I do…"

"You better leave… now!" Will wasn't sure where he'd found the courage to say it. The words just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. There was an urgency behind them that Danny obviously mistook for fear.

"I don't think I will.", he said, taking another step towards the teacher. "And maybe you should get out of the way. I don't think that this is part of your job description…"

"This is my home and you have no right to be here!", Will replied quickly in an attempt to hide the fact that he felt really intimidated by that man.

"Then why did you let me get this far in? It would've been easy enough for you to call the police by now… but maybe you just didn't want to. Maybe you don't want anyone to help him…"

"Okay… that's enough!" The teacher drew himself up to his full height, a determined expression on his face. "I told you to leave…"

"And what are you going to do if I don't? You don't actually think that you'll have a fighting chance against me, do you?"

"Well, there's three of us and only one of you…", Finn said, his uneven voice betraying the confidence he'd tried to install with those words.

"You really want to attack an unarmed man? Three against one? That's not very fair, now, is it?"

The situation seemed to have hit a dead end, and not just because Danny refused to leave. His behavior had become so irrational, so utterly insane that Will almost mistook the whole thing for a weird and somewhat disturbing dream that just jumped from one scene to the next without the slightest hint of coherence. But at the same time, he could feel his fingers digging into the fabric of the couch, could feel the tension lying in the air, crawling over his skin… no, this was as real as it got, there was no denying it. He just had absolutely no idea how to resolve it without risking it to end up in a fight.

But he didn't even have time to think about a solution…

It happened so fast that Will had barely enough time to react. He saw Danny's head suddenly shooting back to Finn, and when he followed the movement, he caught a short glimpse at the teenager who was trying to pick up his cell phone. Danny stormed forwards, but before he could get to Finn, the teacher had stepped into the way. For a moment they just looked at each other, and Will could see the anger flaring in Danny's eyes. His mind seemed suddenly blank, deprived of all but one thought:

_He's not going to do it… he's not going to do it…_

But that last thought was wiped away by Danny's hands on his chest, shoving him out of the way. Will stumbled a few steps backwards, but managed to remain on his feet, and when he looked up at Danny, he could finally see the rage that was now written all over Danny's face, carved deep into his skin, like an incurable disease.

"Puck… Finn… you better get out of here…" Will didn't even try to hide the fear anymore.

"No way…" Puck's voice was determined, he wasn't going to run away from this.

Will turned his head and shot him a pleading glance to convince him to listen… and during that split second, that fracture of a moment, Danny lunged out. The teacher hit the floor hard, the sudden impact taking away his balance for good.

It was as if someone in the back of this story had suddenly struck the bell starting the fight… a fight with no rules… a fight that wouldn't end until all but one person were down on the ground.

Puck, who was almost on the other end of the room, wasn't able to close in on them fast enough to stop Danny from throwing another punch, and Finn, who was actually standing right next to them, didn't seem capable to even move a muscle. He just stood there, glued to the floor, his hands clutched to tightly around his phone that Puck feared he might break it. But before he could get to him, Danny had knocked it out of Finn's hands, just to make sure that he wouldn't use it.

Finn seemed to wake up from his state of shock, but he had barely time to hold off Danny's attack. He ducked away under Danny's fist and almost stumbled over his teacher who was lying on the floor, not unconscious, but obviously dazed.

"Finn… _leave!_" Puck's voice was resolute, allowing no protest whatsoever. But Finn hesitated. He didn't want to leave his friend behind, especially not when they had a good chance of winning this fight. They were in the majority after all…

"No… we can take him out…" Those words just sounded odd coming out of his mouth. They sounded like some daft line from a bad action movie… just that this wasn't a movie.

"Oh yeah? You really think that?" Danny turned back to Finn, frowning. He obviously didn't think that they had any chance at all. "You're not very smart, are you?", he went on, seeming somewhat amused by Finn's words.

Puck slowly bent down to pick up Finn's phone, his eyes never leaving Danny who now had his back turned towards him. He took a short glance at his teacher, who still hadn't got back up, before he looked back down at the cell and dialed the number… and the next thing he felt was an almost unbearable wave of pain running through his body as Danny's fist connected with his already broken ribs. He doubled over, his knees hitting the floor, while he tried to hold back the cry of pain building up in his throat.

He didn't notice the phone slipping out of his hand, never even heard the voice on the other end...

"911, what's your emergency?"


	27. In the end, we all lose

**In the end, we all lose**

There was nothing but chaos… and still, Puck couldn't really asses anything beyond the pain. For all he cared, the world could've ceased to exist and he wouldn't even notice. Though he soon realized that he was lying on the floor, but couldn't exactly remember how he'd gotten there. Hadn't he just tried to call for help?

He opened his eyes, the floor slowly getting into focus, and soon enough he saw the phone lying just a few inches away from him. His arm reached out towards it, and for a second he even thought he could hear a voice on the other end, but it was soon swallowed by Finn's yell hollowing through the living room. It was so loud, so full of anger and fear, that Puck couldn't even be sure that it actually _was _Finn… he'd just never heard his friend yell like that. But even though the sound was shrill, almost earsplitting, he couldn't make out a single word, couldn't tell if there even were any words. And even if he'd been able to listen, they probably wouldn't have made any sense… nothing seemed to make sense anymore, as if the moment Danny had hit him had marked the end of the tense and eerily calm atmosphere that had filled every single second since Danny's arrival.

The phone was almost within reach, his fingertips close to touching the shell, when his eyes fell on a set of dirty shoes walking up to him. He stared at them for a moment, curious as to whom they might belong to, his mind not really able to follow foot with the order of events anymore.

"I don't think you'll need that anymore…" The voice sounded very distant, almost unable to even reach his ears. And when the words finally did reach him, they didn't sound at all threatening, more like a simple statement, followed by a strange crushing noise telling him that the phone had just been stomped and broken to pieces.

Another thought crossed his mind… how was that guy standing next to him, when Finn had just been yelling at him, when Finn was still up and about? Why'd Danny risk turning his back on him, even if it was just for a second?

Puck turned his head, just a few inches, before the pain swept back into his ribs, the struggle to get to the phone having momentarily wiped it off his mind. A small wince escaped his mouth as he tried to focus his eyes on his surroundings, the faceless shoes already forgotten, and found the room empty, raising the unsettling question of how long it had taken him to get to that stupid phone. It couldn't haven been more than a few seconds, could it? What could've happened in such short a time?

His head turned back to the pair of shoes that had suddenly started to move away from him, before they disappeared somewhere behind the couch, and although he knew that they weren't actually gone, although he knew that it was far from being over, he let out a sigh of relief. He stared at the phone lying on the floor, the display cracked, the shell scattered around… there was no chance he'd be able to call for help with that.

Puck struggled to get his arms to push him off the floor and found that the cast was really unpractical when it came to such easy things as standing up, while, at the same time, he wondered why he was even thinking about such irrelevant things right now.

He slowly got to his feet, his ribs giving off a painful sting with each little movement, before he finally managed to stand back up. His knees felt rather week, quivering slightly, and he wasn't at all sure if he would be able to manage staying on his feet. Puck closed his eyes for a second, trying to fight the dizziness, and when he opened them again, he found the room no longer empty, and he realized that it probably never had been. A struggling Mr. Schue was just getting back up, a hand on the back of the sofa to keep himself steady, but apart from the fact that he looked rather shaken up about what had just happened, he seemed okay. Finn on the other hand…

He was lying on the floor, unconscious, a nasty wound on his head.

"W- what h-happened to him?", Puck stuttered, not able to take his eyes off the motionless body of his friend.

"Stumbled over his own feet and hit his head when he tried to attack me. Makes you wonder how he ever managed to make quarterback."

Puck didn't really hear those words, didn't hear the amused undertone in Danny's voice. All he could think about, all he could see, was the blood still oozing out of that wound, slowly running down Finn's pale face. Mr. Schue, too, had noticed Finn lying on the ground, and the sight seemed to drain all the color off his face. He stumbled to the other side of the living room and kneed down next to his student, a shaking hand hastily searching for a pulse. Puck thought he could actually see the relief washing over his teacher, when he finally found one.

Mr. Schue got back to his feet, an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to have shrug off the temporary weakness that had led to his encounter with the living room floor, and replaced it with an almost scary determination.

"You're going to leave… right now!" His voice sounded dangerous, and Puck caught a short glimpse of the anger flaring in the teacher's eyes, before he noticed a sudden movement on the other end of the room. Danny had taken a few steps towards Mr. Schue, his expression shifting back and forth between rage and utter amusement.

"That's certainly not going to happen… not until _he_ changes his story.", Danny said, pointing an arm in Puck's direction.

"He won't…"

"I WON'T LET HIM RUIN MY LIFE!" Danny's face contorted into a scary grimace, the anger carving deep rifts into his skin.

"HE'S NOT THE ONE RUINING IT… YOU DID THAT ALL BY YOURSELF!" Mr. Schue's voice hollowed through the room, Danny's sudden outburst not able to intimidate him anymore.

"IT'S ALL HIS FAULT!"

Puck just stared at them, going back and forth, yelling, screaming at each other, the anger and rage crashing in mid-air, spiraling into a giant cloud of hate, taking all the meaning away from the words being said. He wanted to do something, wanted to get between them, fearing that, at any moment, it could get out of hand. But he just couldn't move, as if he was standing behind a thick wall of glass separating him from their heated argument that was bound to end in another fight… and there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop it.

"… the moment you set foot into their house. You're a scumbag who doesn't feel strong unless he's filled up and beating the crap out of a helpless kid… you don't _deserve _to be happy."

Puck didn't know what had led up to his teacher saying those words, but the sudden silence filling the room after that, gave him a pretty good idea of their impact. Danny didn't seem to be able to find a response… for a moment it even seemed as if he was done for good. He just stood there, staring at Mr. Schue, a last notion of anger rushing over his face, and Puck could see the tension draining off his teacher.

But then everything changed… for the worse. Danny let out a cry of rage and launched forward, taking the teacher by surprise. Mr. Schue crashed to the ground, his left arm outstretched to break the fall. Puck was sure that he heard something break when it connected with the floor, and the cry of pain escaping Mr. Schue's mouth, finally woke him up from his state of shock. He rushed over to the two men, one signle thought left on his mind:

_I have to stop this… once and for all…_

He reached them a moment later, determined to pull Danny away from his teacher, while Mr. Schue struggled to fight off the fists coming down on him. But before he could even get close enough, Danny jerked around, his other fist connecting with Puck's ribs once again. Puck stumbled backwards, almost losing his balance completely, while Danny turned his attention back to Mr. Schue. He grabbed for the teacher's injured arm and twisted it around.

The scream filling the air was too much for Puck.

"STOP IT…" His voice was shrieking, didn't even sound like his own anymore. "Please… stop it!"

Danny let go of the arm and got back to his feet, the teacher's scream dying down to a silent whimper.

"I'll do it… I'll change it… tell them what a great guy you are… whatever you want! Just don't hurt them…" His eyes wandered over Finn, who was still unconscious, to his teacher, who was holding his broken arm, withering in pain. "Please… don't hurt them." He didn't care that he was pleading, didn't care that he'd just raised the white flag… he just couldn't bear seeing them get hurt… couldn't bear knowing that all of this happened because of him.

_I should've left this city when I had the chance…_

"Well… it's too late for that now.", Danny said, as if replying to Puck's unheard thought. "I mean, this…" He opened his arms as to take in the whole situation. "- is hardly something we can just sweep under a rug. You might be willing to go back to telling lies, but I doubt that these two will." He nudged Finn's leg with his foot, before he stepped over him and took another few steps towards Puck. "And since tall boy's parents know about me by now, I guess they'll have a say in this, too."

"But… but you knew that before you even got here…", Puck said, not entirely sure if he'd heard right. "And even if you didn't… you should've known that this could happen…"

"Yeah, well, I guess I wasn't exactly thinking straight… what with your mom turning on me and all that. Things like that can really mess with you head…" Danny took a few more steps towards Puck, who backed away even more, soon enough reaching the corner, his hand feeling the way along the wall.

"What do you mean… she turned on you…? How-"

"Oh… cute story. Well, not that cute, actually, considering that it probably put the lit on my casket, but nevertheless." Danny seemed almost amused with the situation, as he slowly drew nearer. "They questioned her, you know. And when they asked her about a few particular 'incidents', she became a little bit entangled in contradictions, and by the time the interview was over, she'd practically broken down and told them everything…" His expression was unreadable, though Puck thought that he could see a hint of disappointment in Danny's eyes. "So, you see why that might upset me…"

Puck had taken a step backwards with every step Danny had taken towards him, and was now crossing the threshold into the kitchen, though he couldn't even remember how he'd gotten there, his eyes so fixed on Danny that everything else around him had become a giant blur.

"Then why are you still here… y-you should know that you can't turn this around anymore…" Puck wasn't able to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Well, you see… it's like this: with child abuse and assault on my rap sheet, my boss is probably gonna hold off on that promotion-" He stopped for a second, as if he had to think about that for a moment. "Alright, who am I kidding. I'll lose my job as soon as this gets out… and in a town like this, it'll get around sooner than I can try to talk my way out of it… and your mom is as sure as hell not going to come back to me if it means that she won't be seeing her little daughter anymore."

"Don't count on her making a visit…", Puck spat out.

"You're stupid if you think that I'm gonna wait around for the police to get me… no, I'll leave this town as soon as I'm finished here."

Puck didn't even want to know what Danny meant by that.

And then... He didn't even think about it, couldn't even remember making the actual decision to do it, as if acting on mere instinct, but a moment later he pulled a knife out of the knife block, his knuckles turning white when his fingers clenched around the handle.

But Danny didn't seem in the least impressed by that. He leaned against the doorframe, that sick smile still spread on his lips, obviously savoring the fear he was creating with his mere presence.

"I mean, you should've known that it would all come down to this… it's your fault, after all."

Puck backed away from him, walking further into the kitchen, accidentally knocking over the used glasses on the counter. One of them rolled over the edge and fell to the floor, the sound of shattering glass piercing through the fierce silence hanging in the air. Puck tried not to flinch, not to let that noise distract him from the danger lurking at the door. But he couldn't help it, couldn't prevent his body from giving a small shudder… every muscle seemed to be strained beyond its capability and the slightest noise was able to made him twitch, the anticipation already too much for him to handle. A million thoughts were rushing through his mind, thousands of images flashing before his eyes, stumbling over each other as they tried to get his attention, each more scary and gruesome than the last, as if piecing together the jigsaw puzzle of a never ending nightmare.

His hand was shaking, just a little bit, barely noticeable at first, but as the sweat on his palm was making it harder for him to keep his grip on the knife, the slight quiver was getting more obvious until he couldn't control it any more.

Danny stepped away from the doorframe, finally crossing into the room, and that single move seemed to wipe every single thought, every single image out of Puck's head. His mind seemed to have become a blank page at the end of a book whose story had been building up to this one, single most horrific moment, before it suddenly broke off, leaving him behind with nothing but the sole certainty that this wasn't going to end well for him. He just didn't know what to do, couldn't think of a single thing he could do to get out of this, to get past Danny and out of the door. There was just no way of escape…

He was trapped.

"You should put that down, Noah… I really don't want to hurt you!" Danny's voice had an almost kind notion to it, sending cold shivers down Puck's spine.

"Stop calling me that…" Puck didn't know why he said that, why hearing that name would make him so angry that everything else became unimportant.

"That's another thing… why does it bug you so much? What's so bad about that name that you flinch every time I say it?"

"Because every time you say it, I end up at the hospital… and I'm not so fond of that." It was mere instinct that kept him talking, as his mind was no longer able to control the words coming over his lips.

"But that's hardly true, now, is it? I've said it this morning an you're still standing… I'd rather put my bet on some unresolved daddy issues…"

Puck tried to steady his hand, tried to ignore the growing hole, that sickening feeling in his stomach.

"I mean, it's an unfair bet, since I _know_ that you've got a lot of those… that guy called you Noah because of his dad, right? And he told you all these great stories and how great music is and everything…" Danny really seemed to enjoy this moment, seeing how every single one of his words made Puck's hand shake even more. "And then he left… just like that. Left you and your sister to rot in that house, while your mother almost forgot that she even _had _kids. No wonder you screwed up so bad… you didn't even have a chance."

Puck didn't answer. He just didn't know what to say anymore. But at the same time, he wanted Danny to stop, wanted him to stop laying his fucked up life out in front of him. He didn't need to hear about it… he'd already lived through every damn moment of it.

"Shut up…" Puck's voice filled the air before he even realized that he'd opened his mouth. "SHUT UP!"

"Oh… are we getting angry now? I've told you before, that you should work on-", Danny started, but Puck cut him off.

"It's my life, and it was okay until you got there…", he spat out, angry tears now filling his eyes. "You've ruined everything… EVERYTHING!"

"That's where you're wrong, boy…" Danny's behavior changed in an instant. The insanely amused expression disappeared from his face, only to be replaced by a new wave of anger and rage. "I saved her… saved her from that self-loathing hell he'd left her in… your mom would probably be dead by now if it weren't for me!"

Puck tried to back away a little further, but a moment later he hit the other end of the counter… Danny was slowly closing in on him. Puck raised the knife again, desperately trying to keep control over his hand. He didn't even know what he wanted to do with it, his mind no longer able to hold a single thought, as Danny took the last few steps towards him.

"I already told you to put that thing down…", and with that, Danny grabbed for his wrist. Puck tried to fight him off, but he couldn't free his arm from Danny's ironclad grip. They struggled for a moment, each one trying to get a hold of the only weapon they had between them. Puck felt Danny's hand on his injured shoulder, his finger's digging into the wound, the pain almost making him forget about the knife…

And then…

It was a curious moment. As if time had suddenly stopped going forward. Everything seemed to have come to a halt, standing still, frozen forever in this one, single moment.

Puck had expected it to be anything: scary and painful for the most part, maybe a bit shocking, surprising even, since it came out of nowhere. But it wasn't. At least not at first. And he couldn't shake off this strange sensation running through his body, this almost overwhelming thought that it wasn't real, as if he was standing on the other end of the room, leaning against the doorframe - like Danny had only moments before - merely a bystander… watching… witnessing the moment that might just as well be his last.

He stared down his shirt, an odd sensation spreading in his stomach when the knife was pulled out, feeling a strange kind of ease when the blade left his body. A shaking hand suddenly appeared over the wound, struggling to press down on what couldn't be more than a tiny little hole in his skin. Something red seemed to be dripping out of it… or maybe dripping was the wrong word. More like… rushing… and not just a little bit… a lot. Maybe that hole wasn't that tiny after all.

Puck watched, intrigued, as the blood found its way through his fingers, a few narrow, red runlets slowly flowing over the pale white skin of his hand, dripping down to the kitchen floor, one drop at a time. A curious warm sensation prickled on his hand, as if he was just holding it into a nice, comfortable warm stream of water… not at all dangerous… not at all threatening… but gentle, even enjoyable.

The hand started to slip on the wound, but he couldn't even see it anymore, the bright, red color of his own blood burning in his eyes. He raised his head, a confused expression on his pale face, his chalk white skin putting an eerie spotlight on the already fading bruises of the last week. His eyes met with the stare of the man still standing in front of him, and for one single moment he thought that he could see something like guilt flash in those piercing blue eyes… but a second later it was gone.

And then he was suddenly pulled back into his body, no longer a bystander, as time hurled forward again, the realization finally reaching his mind:

_He stabbed me…_

And with the realization came the pain. Distant at first, barely a little sting, before it built up into a giant wave, hovering over him for a split second, before it came crushing down. He wanted to scream, wanted to release the pain invading his mind… but no sound came over his lips, not a single noise escaped his mouth.

He had lost his voice. Along with everything else. The only thing he had left was the pain running through every single vein, taking over his body until it seemed to be the only thing in existence. The rest of the world was crushed into pieces, leaving tiny little shards piercing his skin, slowly draining the life out of his body. His knees started quivering and from mere instinct, no longer capable to control what was happening to him, he took a step back. But it was far too late to try and keep balance. His legs weren't able to hold his weight anymore. His hand searched for the kitchen counter in a last attempt to find something to hold on to, but it slipped, leaving red smears of blood on the wood, before he stumbled backwards into the fridge and slid down to the floor.

He could feel the darkness closing in on him, the first extensions already pulling at his mind, their tiny, clawed fingers digging into his skin, getting ready to drag him away. The pain was getting more numb as his mind slipped away, and he found himself standing on the edge of a bottomless hole staring into nothingness… before he fell, following the seductive, bodiless voices into the dark. And as the world around him melted away, one last thought rushed through his mind, filling him with an overwhelming sadness that pushed everything else away:

_I don't want to die like this…_

* * *

Author's note:

First of all: Sorry for the cliffhanger... I know it's huge... and not nice... not at all. But, well... I can't help it. This chapter was bound to end with that sentence...

Then, of course, thank you for all your reviews. I just love reading them. (So, keep them coming, since I don't seem to be able to get enough of them... their kinda addictive... I guess.)

THANK YOU!

Sam

(Btw... we're close to the finish line, so, I hope you'll keep me company until the end... )


	28. Sometimes days just end

**Sometimes days just end**

He was standing behind the couch in the living room, swaying slightly, his legs still feeling rather week. He didn't even know how he'd managed to get back up to his feet… couldn't even remember doing it, as if he'd just jumped ahead from that moment when he had slowly regained consciousness, finding himself lying on the floor, his head throbbing painfully, to this one… whatever had happened in-between was just gone entirely, nothing but a black splotch hanging in that tiny place in the back of his head where the memory was supposed to be. And there seemed to be a lot more of them, appearing out of nowhere as he tried to search his mind for the events that had led up to this, for the forgotten moments that had taken him here… to this apartment… Mr. Schue's apartment.

His hand reached up to that continuing pain on his forehead. He hadn't expected for anything to happen, but he couldn't help but flinch at the sudden sting emerging from his touch, and a second later he caught himself staring at his fingers, somewhat fascinated by the blood now clinging to them. It was just so odd, so weird, since he absolutely couldn't remember what might've happened for it to get there… it just didn't make any sense.

Something cold was suddenly crawling up his spine, leaving goose bumps on his skin as it moved further upwards, the memory finding its way back into his mind:

_Danny._

It was just a name, a fracture of a thought, but it was enough to make his heart stop. His head jerked around, searching the living room for any sign of the other's whereabouts, but as far as he could see, the room was empty.

A new wave of dizziness overcame him, the sudden movement having been almost too much for his not yet strong enough body. His hand instinctively grabbed for the couch as he struggled to keep his balance. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, trying to fight it off, but even though he managed to stay on his feet, he just couldn't fight off that faint hint of panic seething in his stomach as if waiting for the perfect moment to take over his body.

Finn took a deep breath and let go of the couch, and without even having to tell them, his feet started to move towards the foyer. But there was nobody there, either, and for a split second a somewhat scary thought crossed his mind…

_They've left…_

But before he could even wonder why the door stood ajar, before he could ask himself if it had been that way when Danny had first come in, something else caught his attention.

A voice... somewhere...

"Mr. Schue…?" It was more a croak than anything else, as if he'd left his ability to speak back at the living room.

The voice didn't answer, didn't get louder, didn't give the slightest hint that his words had reached it. Finn stumbled back to the living room, almost fell to the floor again, not looking where he was going as he tried to follow the voice as quickly as possible. He couldn't say why, but something in that voice seemed to pull at him, like an invisible force that was urging him forward, taking away all control he had left over his body. He could hear it more clearly now, could hear the fear and panic building up in front of him like a wall of fog appearing out of nowhere… and Finn stopped...

He could see the door frame that would lead him to the room the voice was coming from. He didn't know why, but something held him back, prevented him from taking the final steps towards it, from going around that corner… he just stood there, somehow frozen to the spot, as he listened to the words slopping out of that room.

"Stay with me… please… stay with me, Puck…"

Finn closed his eyes, shook his head, as if trying to chase off the words just so he wouldn't have to understand their meaning. He didn't want to know their meaning… and then he heard a second voice.

"I d-don't w-w-want to d-die like this…" The words seemed to stumble over each other, came out by jerks as if it took a lot of strength for them to get out.

"You're not... I won't let you…"

"I-I don't w-want t-to die l-like this…" There it was again. That hurt voice, those words that seemed as if they had just merely escaped a feverish dream.

"Help's on the way… just hang on… please…"

A moment of silence, just interrupted by a silent whimper every now and then… before the words found there way out again.

"I don't want to die like this…" No more stutter. No more hesitation. Just a statement. Barely more than a whisper, the voice so tired, so out of strength... like the final words before an everlasting sleep.

"No… no, no, no… please… NO…"

Finn didn't know why he did it… why his feet started to move again, taking one small step at a time, inevitably leading him to the one thing he didn't want to see. But he just couldn't stop…

The moment Finn turned the corner, he wished that he hadn't woken up, wished that he could still be lying on the living room floor, unconscious, not able to see or hear anything...

An ice cold hand pierced through his chest, its long, bony fingers closing around his heart, gripping it so tight that he feared it might crush it. He could feel the cold invade his veins, rushing through his body with every single beat his heart was able to muster, numbing him from the inside, while, at the same time, an almost unbearable heat started spreading on his skin, crawling all over his body like a fire getting out of control, threatening to burn him alive. Every single thought fled his mind, rushing out of his head as if they knew about the danger awaiting them if they would stay in his head. And he was left standing on the threshold, staring into the kitchen, his head blank and empty except for one single thought:

_This is a mistake… it's a mistake… please, let it be a mistake…_

His eyes wandered over the bloody knife on the floor, the red smears on the kitchen counter, and followed the trail of drops and tiny red puddles to the slowly growing pool of blood.

So. Much. Blood.

Finn had never seen so much blood in his entire life… not for real, anyway. How could there even be so much blood? No one person could have that much… How much was there anyway… how much could a person even lose until it was too much?

Mr. Schue turned his head, and even though something in the back of his head told Finn that the teacher was talking to him, he couldn't make out a single word, as if he'd suddenly gone deaf. He saw the teacher's lips moving, but still… he heard nothing… nothing at all. Just silence. A silence so perfect, so flawless, that it didn't seem real. A complete absence of all sound pressing on his ears with so much force that he feared he could crumble under its weight.

Finn tried to hold on to the teacher's face, even though seeing all that pain carved into his skin, the panic in his eyes was almost too much. But it seemed to be the only thing keeping him from looking at the motionless body lying on the floor… the last thing able to keep him sane. He just couldn't bear to look, as if not seeing it could make it go away…

But then he already knew who it was. He didn't need to see the face to know that it was his best friend... dying…

_No… he's not… he can't…_

He couldn't stop his eyes from wandering away from the teacher's face, couldn't stop them from gliding over the bloody hand pressing down on the wound, couldn't help but notice that the kitchen towel was already soaked through... that the blood just rushed through the teacher's fingers with nothing there to stop it. His eyes followed the red color getting sucked up by the torn shirt, until...

The room was smashed to pieces, taking away everything that ever had any meaning in this world, the broken pieces hanging in the air for a split second, like shards of a broken mirror reflecting the horrors too gruesome to look at with the naked eye, before they fell down, scattering over the floor, taking away the last thing standing between him and reality.

And then he saw the face. Puck's face. Stared at it, until everything else around it seemed to disappear, until it was all he could see. The pale skin. The bruises telling of so much pain and suffering… but then, it looked so calm, so relaxed… so peaceful. As if Puck was just sleeping… just that he might never -

Finn swallowed hard. He didn't want to think about it, to even let that thought get close to his mind, but at the same time he couldn't shut up that tiny little voice in the back of his head telling him that this might be the last time he got to look at that face, and he caught himself trying to remember what it had looked like before, to remember the confident smile once spread on that face, just so he wouldn't have to see it like this… blank… and empty…

He didn't hear the sudden noises emerging from the other side… the other side of this threshold that drew the line between this nightmare and the rest of the world. They were just so distant, so far away… they didn't belong here.

But they got there anyway, and soon the room was filled with people, filled with noise, with alarmingly loud voices going back and forth. Finn was pushed out of the way, brushed aside as if he were nothing but an unimportant prop standing in their way. But it didn't matter. He didn't even notice… didn't care. He didn't even want to be there… would've given everything not to be there.

They were gone as quickly as they had appeared, as if someone had just pressed a forward button. And not just them… Puck, too.

Finn stared at the floor, not able to understand what had just happened. How could he have gone if he'd just been lying there, right in front of him?

He turned his head towards his teacher who was no longer kneeing on the floor, but standing at the other end of the room talking to someone. But before Finn could even wonder who the other guy was, a face appeared in front of him.

"You're alright, kid?" The voice was calm… too calm. It didn't feel right, like it was out of place somehow. It just didn't fit in with the images flashing before his eyes. But still, without even realizing what he was doing, he shook his head, feeling, deep down, that it was the right - no, the only - answer to that question.

"No…" The word left his lips, hanging in the air, that one simple word telling the whole story of this nightmare, as if it were holding all the pain and sorrow within.

Finn's knees suddenly started quivering, a sudden wave of dizziness taking over his body.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… steady there…"

Someone grabbed his arm, holding him upright while his legs threatened to give out under him, and next thing he knew, he was sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall, panting, sweating, as if he had run for hours without a break. He had never felt this weak and powerless in his entire life, as if something had sucked all the strength out of him.

The face was back in front of him again, somehow floating in mid-air…

_That can't be right…_

"Let me have a look at your head."

Finn could hear the voice, thought that he could see the lips moving in time with the words, but all the while the face seemed to get out of focus as black dots started to appear in front of his eyes. The dizziness took another turn on him and he started to feel lightheaded. A sudden nausea started to rise in his stomach, a strange wave of heat swashing over him as he tried to fight it off. He tried to concentrate on the cold floor under his hands, the cold tiles touching his skin. But he couldn't fight it anymore, felt himself slide to the side, two strong hands catching him before he hit the floor, and then… nothing.

* * *

Time is a curious, peculiar thing. It can rush by so fast that you don't even have time to realize what is going on until it's too late. Like that one moment, when Puck and Danny had disappeared into the kitchen while Will had still been struggling to get back to his feet. He had heard the glass falling to the floor, had heard them arguing, had heard the words flying back and forth, asking himself what 'that thing' was that Danny had asked Puck to put down… and before he'd even been able to get close to the room, he'd heard something else scatter to the floor, like metal clattering on stone.

Will hadn't even seen the shadow rushing past him out of the kitchen… he'd just tried to get to whoever was making those heartrending, pained noises, a voice in the back of his head saying the same words over and over and over again…

_Please, don't let it be too late… don't let it be too late… _

But Will couldn't even remember what had happened after he'd entered the kitchen, as if something had just taken over control, shutting him out of his own body… and next thing he knew he was sitting on this chair in the waiting area of the hospital… waiting.

The few things he _could _remember though didn't seem to be in the right chronological order. Will knew that, at some point after the EMTs and the police had arrived at his apartment, he had picked up his cell phone from the kitchen floor and had called Finn's mom. The odd thing was, though, that he couldn't remember taking it out of his jeans pocket in the first place… or actually calling '911' which should've happened before that… at least that's what the bloody fingerprints all over the phone told him. And then they'd examined his arm, the x-rays confirming what he'd already known when he'd heard that cracking noise the moment he'd hit the floor. He'd never broken a bone before and in those first few minutes after it had happened… that blinding pain… and, for some unknown reason, the only thing on his mind back then had been the question of how Puck had been able to take so much of this pain when he himself was almost passing out from a broken arm. And then Finn had passed out on the kitchen floor and -

No, that wasn't right, that had happened a lot earlier… or later... or-

Will shook his head, trying to shake of the tiredness slowly creeping up in his body. By now, time had slowed down so much that every single second ticking by was almost unbearable, causing him to look at his watch every other moment just to make sure that it was still going forward… that it hadn't just stopped.

A few minutes later, Finn's mom arrived at the hospital, Kurt and his dad following close behind. Will hadn't really been able to tell her what had happened on the phone, so he wasn't at all surprised to be met with more questions than he could possibly answer. He didn't even know where to start, couldn't get himself to look past the worried and somewhat panic look on her face... to just tell her, knowing that he couldn't let himself get sucked into that maelstrom of emotions emanating from her. He just couldn't afford to have a breakdown right now.

The conversation itself was forgotten soon after, like almost every other word that had been said tonight. And in the end the only thing important for her, was the fact that her son would be okay… at least that was what the doctor told them later. Finn had needed a couple of stitches, had a slight concussion and would have to stay overnight for observation. But apart from that, he was fine.

The three of them left for Finn's room and once again, Will was left alone in the waiting area, the only thing keeping him company the horrible images in his head… he just needed to hear that Puck was going to be alright… that he would make it. But no matter how long he waited, no one seemed to be able to tell him anything.

Someone sat down beside him, and it wasn't until he heard the voice that he realized that it was Burt.

"What the hell happened tonight…" It wasn't a question really. It sounded more like a statement of someone who just couldn't believe that this was real.

Will didn't answer. Not at first, anyway. He just tried to find comfort in the silence sweeping through his head.

"How did that guy even know where to look for him?"

"Your guess is as good as mine…" Will's voice sounded tired, somewhat distant, as if it wasn't his own anymore. And then he remembered something Danny had said… "I think he followed Finn…" He didn't know why he said that, didn't know if it was actually true, but then it was the only way that made sense… and Will just hoped that Finn would never find out.

There was a strange silence hanging between them and for some unknown reason Will had the feeling that Burt was somehow blaming him for all of this… and he was probably right. After all, Will had let that guy in. Not that he hadn't tried to stop him, but still… he should've done something the moment Danny had shown up at his door, should've told Finn to call someone… or he should've… should've done… _something! _Anything to stop that guy from setting a foot in his apartment.

But it was too late for that now… he couldn't change anything… would never be able to change what had happened, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sometime later a doctor approached them, but it wasn't the news Will had been hoping for, and when he closed the door of his apartment behind him an hour later, he could still hear the words ringing in his ears…

_Lost a lot of blood… his condition is critical… stable for now… constant observation… _

Will knew that he shouldn't have left, that he should've stayed at the hospital, but he just hadn't been able to stay there for even another second, had felt as if the walls were closing in on him… and he'd run out. Just like that.

And now he stood in his apartment, staring into the dark, listening, as if he expected someone else to be there, to be waiting for him. But the silence surrounding him wasn't disturbed by a single sound. He was alone… all alone.

Will turned around and switched on the light, a sudden hint of panic creeping up his spine… and he realized, that he was scared. Scared to be in his own home. He stared down at his hands. There were still a few traces of Puck's blood sticking to them, clinging to his fingers like a bad memory that he just couldn't get rid of… and then they started shaking… violently… and the more he tried to make them stop the worse it got.

He leaned back against the door, trying to prevent the shivers from taking over his entire body… but it was already too late for that.

This whole night he had just functioned, like a machine, had kept away all the emotions that would otherwise have stopped him from helping Puck… but he couldn't function anymore… he just had no more strength left.

He could feel tears running down his face. He didn't know where they'd come from… they were just there… and he wasn't able to fight them anymore… didn't _want_ to fight them anymore. The room got out of focus, swam before his eyes as the world got drowned in his tears. He slid down to the floor, his legs no longer able to hold him as an overwhelming feeling of despair took over his body.

And so he sat there, on the ground, crying, his face drenched in tears, a trembling hand covering his mouth as if trying to prevent the sobs from escaping his throat… and he just couldn't stop.


	29. Rumors

**Rumors**

No one really knew, where they'd come from, no one knew who'd started them, but when Will Schuester entered McKinley High on Wednesday, barely two days after it had happened, they were already all over the place…

Rumors.

A lot of them.

One wilder than the last, some even so adventurous and unlikely, that Will couldn't even believe that they had gotten out there in the first place. But then they all had one thing in common: Puck was in the hospital. Just the reasons for him being there seemed to differ a lot… and none of them came even close to what had _really_ happened.

Somehow it amazed Will that there even _was _so much chatter going on about this. But then, Puck probably was one of the most known kids in this school… and Will was pretty sure that the interest in this wouldn't be half as big if Puck were a silent, shy freshman.

Either way, Will tried not to listen to them, or to tell anyone the real version. He wasn't here to set them all straight, wasn't going to even be at school long enough for anyone to raise any questions at him. The thing that bothered him, though, were the looks they shot him when he walked through the hallway, all of them staring at him somewhat accusingly, as if he'd had a hand in all of this... making him wonder what exactly was going on in their heads…

But then they probably just assumed that he'd had something to do with it, or at least knew about what had happened, due to the cast on his left arm and the bruise on his face where Danny's fist had been able to land a punch. It wasn't easy to hide that… and he was probably just being paranoid in thinking that they were all blaming him for whatever had happened… the guilt that had been crawling through his stomach these past two days wasn't helping to get past that, though, and he was glad that there was just one thing he had to do before going back to the hospital.

He turned the next corner and stepped into his office a moment later, shutting the blinds as soon as he'd closed the door. He took a deep breath, trying to shake off that strange feeling of relief suddenly overcoming him, as if he'd just escaped from more than just a curious crowd of students. But as soon as he'd shaken it off another feeling started creeping up inside him… nervousness… maybe even dread. Dread of what he was about to do, even though he knew that he had to… before any more horror stories were able to get out in the open. Not that the truth wasn't horrific, but… at least it was the truth. And they had to hear it. The thing was that, even though he knew that it was the right thing to do, the shock was still sitting way too deep, and just the mere thought of having to talk about it, about having to live through it once again, made him feel sick. He just wasn't sure if he was up to it yet.

Will sat down on the chair behind his desk and closed his eyes, trying to remember the last, carefree moment he'd had. Not that he hadn't had anything to worry about before all this, but… it had all seemed a lot easier than this. He opened his eyes again, let them wander over the room, and for a second he felt as if he'd been pulled back in time, back to that moment when Puck had been in this office. It had only been a week, but after all that had happened since that Wednesday morning, it almost seemed ages ago. But still, he couldn't get those images out of his head…

Puck trying to avoid the conversation, the sudden anger when he'd talked about how no one had ever cared about him… and that little boy that had been standing in his office, crying for help even though he'd never said the words.

Will swallowed hard, somewhat hoping to get that bitter taste out of his mouth, to swallow the memories before they were able to pull him out of reality. He had to stay focused right now.

He stared into the choir room, watched as, one by one, the kids shuffled in… all but Finn, who was staying at home for another day. They all looked rather confused, a mixture of puzzled and somewhat scared expressions spread on their faces as they tried to decipher the truth behind all the rumors floating through the halls. Kurt was the last one to come in, and the only one who didn't look confused, but worried and somewhat frightened… after all, he was the only person in that entire room who knew… who knew what had happened, who knew the real story behind the rumors.

Will waited another five minutes, the nervous tingle in his stomach getting more and more intense as he waited for the right moment to go in. But when Rachel got off her seat and stepped over to the piano, a determined look on her face, probably about to tell them about her over-the-top song collection for regionals, he knew that he couldn't wait any longer.

He opened the door and walked into the choir room, trying desperately to ignore the startled looks on their faces and the hushed voices emerging almost instantly when they caught sight of him. But when he reached the piano and turned to look at them, they fell silent immediately, and without having to tell her, Rachel went back to her chair and sat down.

There was an awkward silence, as Will struggled to find the right words, to find the best way to start. But he soon realized that there really were no right words for this… no best way to tell them, and he wished more than anything in this moment that he wouldn't have to, that there wouldn't even _be a reason_ for him to talk about things like this in the first place… wished for one last time that he could just wake up and find himself back in his apartment... in his bed… or at least in a more or less comfortable chair having fallen asleep over a boring book…

But after that moment had passed, he was still standing in the choir room, ten pairs of eyes staring at him in expectation of an explanation.

"I don't really know where to start…", he said after another painful minute of silence. "A lot has happened these past two weeks and -" He cleared his throat, a giant lump suddenly building up in it the closer he got to telling them. "- and I want to talk to you before any more of those rumors get spread. I want you to know the truth, because… whatever is getting around out there -" He had to stop again as he tried to find the right end to that sentence. "I don't want you to listen to any of that… it's… it's important that... that you know what really happened."

No one spoke. It even seemed as if some of them didn't dare to breathe. Will, though, took a deep breath, before he continued.

"I want to tell you a story, a story that, sadly, is as real as me standing here right now… a story about one of you." Will didn't know why he told it like this. It would have been a lot easier to just get it out… to just get it over with. It wouldn't have taken him more than a minute, two, three sentences maybe.

_Puck's mother's boyfriend is a scumbag who's been beating the crab out of Puck every chance he got. On Monday night it got so out of hand that Puck ended up in the hospital after that guy stabbed him…_

Even in his head it sounded unreal, but, at the same time, far too real for anyone of them to be able to understand it… and the mere try of getting over the paradox in that strain of thought, made his head hurt.

"A teenager, just like you, who goes to this school, who had always put his reputation before anything else, before he decided to join glee club." It was strange talking about Puck that way, like he was talking about someone he hardly knew, telling a story he'd heard instead of having been a part of it. But somehow it was easier that way. He could actually feel the tension leaving his body… at least a little bit. And his voice, too, seemed more calm than he would have expected it to be in this situation.

"He sat with you in this room, sang with you, performed with you… but while you got back home afterwards, he got back to a nightmare…" He shook his head. This was stupid… like he was talking to a group of little kids, telling them a bedtime story… or rather, telling them of the boogeyman. But he just couldn't help it, couldn't shake that seductive feeling of safety building up between him and the truth as he kept his distance. "And then there was this teacher…", he added with a sigh, knowing perfectly well that all of them - except maybe Brittany - were aware that he was talking about himself… and how weird it must sound to hear him refer to himself as 'this teacher'.

"You know that I always cared about you guys… I've listened to you, tried to help you with your problems, but I never listened to _him_… at least never close enough. I believed all his lies, like everyone else, and most of the times I didn't even care to ask. Until last week… but even then it was more of a coincidence… he could've kept lying, but, for some reason, he didn't." Will took another deep breath. "He finally got out with the truth… for the first time in two years."

And then he told them. Everything. Well… everything he could remember… everything that mattered. He didn't want to paint a wrong picture, didn't want them to think of Puck as weak or helpless, but he didn't want to play it down either. He could see the shocked expressions on their faces, the withheld anguish when he told them about the day when he had left Puck at the bus station, tried desperately to look past them, to find a spot on the wall behind them that he could hold on to, afraid that he might slip into the sea of emotions spreading out in front of him. He just couldn't let that happen… not yet anyway.

He didn't know how much time had passed when the last words left his lips. It seemed as if hours had passed since he'd first opened his mouth.

There was a deep silence after he had finished. None of them seemed to dare say anything, as if disturbing this moment with their words would somehow diminish the graveness of this whole situation. And for some reason, they couldn't bear to look at each other, somehow afraid that someone could see the thoughts rushing through their minds… that someone could get a glimpse at the guilt in their eyes.

After a moment that seemed to last forever, Kurt got off his chair, took his bag and left the choir room, no longer able to stand the silence. And if that sudden movement had broken the invisible spell Will's story had put on each and everyone of them, the others followed.

One by one they got up and left, most of them alone. In fact, Tina and Mike seemed to be the only ones capable of staying with each other, while every one else tried desperately to avoid getting close to anyone.

Brittany tried, though. She wanted to talk to Santana, because she couldn't understand why they all looked so shocked and sad and scared, but the other cheerleader rushed out of the choir room and disappeared around the next corner before Brittany had a chance to get to her.

Santana just didn't want to be with anyone right now, and not wanting to explain to Brittany what all of this meant was only part of reason she made herself scarce as quickly as possible. She just didn't want to give anyone even the slightest chance to ask her why she never had noticed anything, didn't want to give them the chance to call her ignorant and self-absorbed, even though they would be right to do so... after all, she had gotten naked with Puck on a more or less regular basis... she was the one person who had seen what had been hidden underneath.

Of course, she'd seen the bruises on his ribs and arms, sometimes even on his back, all those bruises that had always been well hidden under his shirt. Of course, she'd seen the fading scars on his right arm after the summer, had felt that vicious scar on his lower back… had noticed how he had tried to evade her touch, how he would flinch every time her fingers got too close to it. And she had never even cared to asked... it had just never occurred to her that there might be something seriously wrong...

She fled into the next restroom, a nauseating feeling of guilt suddenly building up in her stomach. She turned on the water and splashed her face, hoping that it would somehow make it go away… but it didn't. And when she raised her head and looked in mirror, she felt as if she couldn't even recognize the person staring back at her.

At the same time, Artie was outside, waiting for his dad to pick him up. It was a routine, nothing more. Something he always did by the end of a normal school day. He had just never felt so lost out here as he did now. Not that he had never felt lost in this big crowd of students walking around him while he was stuck in this chair… but today was different. And he wished, more than anything, that there was someone he could talk to, someone he could tell about those scary thoughts going through his head. But the others had all scattered away in different directions as soon as they had reached the hallway. And besides… what would they say if he were to tell them what Puck had said about hating juvie, about how scared Puck had been… about how Puck had lied when he'd told them that he'd loved it there…?

They would say that he should have seen it, right? Because he was probably the only person who knew what good a liar Puck really was… no, Artie couldn't tell anyone about that.

Rachel was hiding, too, which was something she hardly ever did, because, after all, the show must go on, right? But not today. Today she just wanted to hide out in her room. She just sat on her bed, all evening, trying to fight the urge to call Finn, because, even though she desperately wanted to know how he was, she didn't know how to talk to him right now… after this, fearing that she might start telling him off for not talking to her about it despite knowing that it would definitely be the worst thing she could do given the situation… she just wasn't sure if she would be able to stop herself.

She tried to distract herself by going over a list of possible songs for regionals, singing parts of them to herself, trying to imagine how the judges would react to her doubtlessly perfect solos… but even though that had always been able to cheer her up in the past, it didn't this time. And half an hour later she switched off the lights and went to bed. But falling asleep just isn't that easy when that tiny little voice in the back of your head just won't shut up, that little voice telling her just how unfair she'd been to Puck: After Puck had run out of Mr. Schue's office, she'd suggested to replace him even though she'd had no idea what was going on. And even today, when the teacher had come into the choir room, about to talk to them, she had already assumed that whatever had happened had been Puck's fault… and she just couldn't stop feeling guilty about that.

And Quinn… well, Quinn, too, sat in her room, alone, fighting more demons than any one of them. Not only had she ignored the bruises and injuries like the others, no, she'd ignored what had been going on in that house when she'd been living there. And even though there hadn't actually been any fighting or yelling or anything else that would have indicated that something was wrong, she felt guilty... because… she had felt it, had felt that strange mixture of pain and fear filling each and every room, hanging over them like a dark cloud telling of a terrible storm that had raged between those walls and had since then been waiting for the perfect moment to start up again. But she had ignored it all the same. Had ignored the faint shivers running down her spine whenever she'd opened the front door, had ignored the look on the face of Puck's mom whenever she'd caught sight of her son, had ignored that uncomfortable feeling she'd had in her stomach whenever Danny had entered the room… she had just been too thankful for having a roof over her head to care whether it was real or not.

For a few fleeting moments she thought about talking to Sam, but dismissed that thought before she could even get up to get the phone out of her bag. This had happened before his time… and besides, talking about it, saying it out loud, would be like pleading guilty, right? Because, no one could deny that she was the one person who had gotten close enough to that house to see it. No, she would never, ever, tell anyone.

And then, all of a sudden, she realized something else as another dreaded memory slowly crept back to her mind: she had taken his little Beth away from him… and somehow that seemed worse than anything else, as if by giving her up for adoption she had somehow deprived him of the chance to break out of his own, miserable life… the one chance to make it better.

And even though she desperately tried not to think about it, about that one moment when they'd been standing behind the glass window, looking at that tiny little person they had created, she just couldn't stop the images from floating before her eyes… and she couldn't stop the tears, either… the tears that started running down her face when she remembered the sad look in Puck's eyes after she had told him that she wouldn't keep the baby…

That night, Quinn cried herself to sleep.

They all had at least one moment they'd wished had gone by differently, and by the end of this day, they all felt guilty about something… even if it was just for having a family that cared about them… for having a home that was safe.

* * *

Author's note:

Thank you sooo much for the great response, especially for the Chapter 'In the end we all lose' ... (even though some of you threatened to rip my head off... =) ... an understandable reaction to that cliffhanger... and it hasn't exactly been solved yet... but it will be... soon...)

Oh, and here's a little footnote: there's only one more chapter... so, I really hope you'll stay with me 'til the end!

Thanks again!

* * *

Author's note II: [12.07.2011]

I'm sorry that I've kept you waiting for so long... and to inform you that you'll probably have to wait a little longer (about two more weeks...) - but I'm really, really swamped... I got three more written exams in the next 10 days, a paper to finish in the next couple of hours and an oral exam... (not to mention the job I need to get to three times a week...)

But the semester at University will be over soon... and I won't deprive you of the end of this story for much longer. I just can't concentrate on it right now... (meaning that I feel guilty every time I delay my studying for writing fanfiction... and that just ruins the text... so... I want this to be perfect, that's why I've put it on hold until the exams are a thing of the past...)

I'm really sorry!

Sam


	30. There are no happy endings

**There are no happy endings**

He was drifting, floating, somewhere, through nothingness. He thought that it should feel strange. But it didn't. It didn't feel like anything. At all. There was just a whole lot of nothing. The few short glimpses he got of the world beyond were vague and blurred. As if a veil were hanging right in front of him, mere inches away from his fingertips, like some kind of light, grey fabric wafting in an invisible breeze of air. But no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't get past it, couldn't touch it, and as he tried to move his hand towards it, nothing happened, as if he didn't even have hands anymore. But before the faint panic building up in his mind could become more than a slight shiver running down his spine, the darkness fell back in on him again, taking hours away from his live in a matter of seconds.

Time just didn't exist for him anymore.

Sometimes he would register someone being there next to him, staring at him, a sihouette, a mere shadow without a face. Sometimes he thought he could hear a voice talking to him, but he just couldn't concentrate, couldn't get his mind to listen to more than a few words before he fell back into the comforting shadows.

And maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better for him not to know…

Not to know anything about the rumors spreading throughout the school, about the nasty stories being passed from one student to the other, the indifference most of them showed towards what had happened to him. Not to know that Danny had run out of his teacher's apartment that night and had disappeared. Not to know that he had been drifting in and out of consciousness for almost five days before he finally woke up...

The first thing he noticed was the noise, a strange regular rhythm floating towards his ears, somehow carrying him in midair before lying him down on the soft cushions of a comfortable bed. He could feel the smooth fabric of the covers under his fingers, the soft pillow under his head, and he just couldn't explain how that unsettling feeling of dread that was spreading through his stomach could fit in with that. But even though he wished nothing more than to keep lying there, doing nothing but breathe in and out, he couldn't shake off the faint panic prickling in the back of his neck. And then, all of a sudden, his mind escaped the comforting darkness of unconsciousness, dragging along the unwanted memories like an unwelcome messenger bearing the worst news.

The images came back to him like pictures on a camera, slowly at first, one at a time, but after a while, the empty, black spaces between them got shorter, and as the images flashed before his eyes, that unfamiliar sound seemed to increase, his heart starting to speed up, beating rapidly, pounding against his chest as if about to break out of his body. Cold sweat appeared on his forehead, tricked down his face, burned on his skin as if someone was drowning him in boiling water. He could feel a slight shiver running through his body and his hands started to shake as he desperately tried to fight off the memories pressing in on his mind, clawing away on his soul.

He opened his eyes, frightened, terrified, not knowing where he was, where the nightmare ended and reality began. His heart was still racing, the fear gripping him tight with its long, cold fingers, making it almost impossible for him to take more than a few rapid, shallow breaths, and for a second, one fleeting moment, he thought that he were about to choke on the panic drowning him in an endless sea of horror.

He tried to take a deep breath, to calm himself down, but he couldn't stop the images from swimming in front of his eyes, couldn't prevent the fear from crawling through his skin into his body like a deadly disease.

He wanted to close his eyes, to fall back into the comfortable darkness he had lingered in for so long, but then he was afraid that the images might just appear right in front of him again the moment he dared to take his attention away from reality. So, instead, he tried to concentrate on what was right in front of him, to find something that he could hold on to until he would be able to calm down. But as his eyes wandered through the room, he started to realize where he was, to realize that he had woken in a hospital room. And while he tried to filter out that one memory that would explain why he was here, the memory of the incident that had brought him here, his left hand unintentionally moved towards his stomach, and he could feel a faint hint of pain under his numb skin, a pain so far away that it didn't really seem to belong to him.

He took another deep breath, could feel the tension slowly leaving his body, and as he stared at the closed door at the other side of the room, the last foggy clouds leaving his mind, he realized something else: He was alone. Entirely alone.

Well, what did he expect? That someone would be sitting at his bedside, holding his hand, day and night, waiting for him to wake up? There was no one who would do that… not for him anyway. His mom certainly wouldn't, if they would even let her in. And his sister… he didn't even know where she was! As for Mr. Schue… had he really expected the teacher to spent all his free time at the hospital? No. Not really...

Sure, Mr. Schue had helped him through this, had stood up to Danny for him and -

Puck swallowed hard, a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, as the teacher's cry of pain suddenly rang through his ears, before the haunting image of Mr. Schuester lying on the floor of his own living room entered his mind, just to be replaced only seconds later by the memory of his best friend lying on the ground, unconscious, bleeding, hurt…

His heart skipped a few beats as he tried not to think about what might have happened to them, he didn't want the fear and panic to get another grip on him again. But he didn't have a fighting chance as the emotions took over his body once again.

The irritating beeping noise suddenly increased, grew into a rapid scramble of high-pitched tones until it was nothing but one everlasting tone… and Puck found himself back in the kitchen of Mr. Schue's apartment, his whole body inflamed with pain. He couldn't say where it began, knew, that it had no end, that it would burn him alive until there was nothing left but his ashes.

And then it stopped, as fast as it had started, and he suddenly felt a hand touching his arm, just for a moment, before he finally drifted back into he comforting darkness of unconsciousness.

He woke up again a few hours later, but the room was still empty. At least the fear seemed to stay away for the moment… in fact, he felt much more relaxed, but also numb and somwhat groggy at the same time, as if something was keeping his body from feeling much more than a slight notion of reality. But whatever it was, it couldn't prevent the loneliness from closing in on him, and the thought that no one cared enough to be there for him weighed heavily on his mind.

He hadn't even realized that the door had opened, until the nurse was standing right next to his bed, checking something he couldn't see. But then she turned her head, her eyes wandering over his face, before she realized that he was awake, and the smile that spread on her lips a moment later suddenly filled him with a strange feeling of comfort and warmth that he thought had left him a long time ago.

"Hey there…", she said, her voice mirroring the kind expression on her face. But as he tried to reply, nothing but a strange croak came over his lips. His mouth was so dry that he feared it could crack if he should ever try to talk again. A moment later, she was holding a glass of water to his lips. A moment later she put down the glass and walked to the other side of his bed to check on the IV-line leading to the tiny needle that was stuck in the back of his left hand.

"What happened…?" His voice still sounded sore, but at least she seemed able to understand his question. Though, thinking about it… he knew what had happened, didn't he? Just not the part where he had been brought to the hospital.

"I'll get the doctor.", was all she replied before she left.

A few minutes later she came back, followed by a tall woman wearing scrubs and a white coat, a clipboard in her hands and a relieved expression on her face.

"I'm doctor Sutherland…"

But her name was all he was able to keep in his mind from that conversation. Her name and the last words she said before she left his room ten minutes later: "… you had a lot of people worry about you…" Just that those words didn't really feel like the truth. And those few minutes of being awake had already exhausted him so much that he fell back asleep shortly afterwards.

He woke up again a couple of hours later, but this time his room wasn't empty. Someone was sitting in a chair in the corner, a man, his eyes resting on a book he was holding in his hand.

"Mr. Schue…?" The words came over his lips before he could even think about them, before he could even be sure that they were the right ones, and as they floated through the air to the other end of the room, the man raised his head, but still, it seemed to take him a moment to realize what had just happened, because it took quite a while for the concerned and tired expression to leave his face and be replaced by a relieved smile. The book slipped out of his hand, fell to the ground, when the teacher hurried to get up from the chair and walk over to him.

"Hey… you're awake…" It was more of a statement than anything else, something that would reassure him that this was real, that he wasn't just dreaming.

"Yeah… looks like it." Puck tried to smile, but didn't really seem able to make it work. At least it didn't feel like the broad smile he wanted to give the one person who had finally believed him.

"You had me pretty scared there for a while."

This time, Puck knew that it was true, could hear it in the voice, could see it on the teacher's face.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired… I guess." It was the only real answer he could think of, the only feeling that seemed to matter right now. The pain was still there, somewhere, but it was so far away that it didn't take much for him to be able to ignore it. "What happened…?", he asked again, somehow feeling as if the doctor hadn't really answered that question. At least as far as he could remember.

The teacher turned his head away for a moment, and Puck thought that he could see a dark shadow passing over the man's face, just for a moment, before he looked at him again.

"I found you in the kitchen and called 911... and they brought you here."

That wasn't much of an answer, but Puck didn't want to push any further, didn't want to take this moment of relief away from both of them, to spoil it with the memories of a nightmare they both knew they would have to live with for the rest of their lives.

"I'm sorry about your arm…", he said instead, feeling the sudden need to apologize when his eyes fell on the cast around the teacher's arm.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. None of it is…"

Puck could feel that the teacher really meant what he was saying, and the overwhelming feeling of gratitude washing over him a moment later told him just how much he had needed to hear those words.

"Maybe you should get some more rest…", Mr. Schue said a moment later, but Puck had already fallen back to sleep before the words even reached him.

He woke up once every couple of hours, but couldn't stay awake for more than an hour at a time. His eyelids just always felt so heavy, that it was getting hard to keep his eyes open after a while, and he felt that there was so much going on around him, that his mind had trouble to follow whatever happened, as if part of it was still resting somewhere in the dark. But by the end of the week, he was feeling well enough to have a serious talk with Finn about the future of the football team, even though none of them were really interested in that subject. It was just something that would keep their minds of the past, of that one night that had almost ended his life.

But as soon as Puck was alone again, he wished that he could just fall asleep as he had done so many times during the last few days, because, the longer he was able to stay awake, the more time he had to think about what had happened… and to ask himself what was going to come next, to realize, that he didn't have a family anymore… that he had nowhere to go, that Danny had taken everything away from him.

But Puck didn't know that, a few towns over, a man was brought into the emergency room four days after the incident at Mr. Schue's apartment. They had found him lying at the side of the road, a car standing about a mile away in the ditch telling them that he had probably run it off the road and had been wandering around, confused, disoriented, until he had collapsed.

That same night, the man's heart stopped beating, and somewhere during Mr. Schue's visit Monday afternoon, two police officers entered Puck's room at the hospital to tell him that the man who had ruined his life for the better part of two years had died at a hospital, alone.

But even though he knew that it was finally over, that Danny would never be able to lay a hand on him again, he couldn't feel happy or relieved, because it just felt wrong to feel that way right then. But he couldn't say that he felt sad or sorry that Danny was dead, either, because even though it would have been the decent thing to say, it just would have been a lie. And in the end, Puck found himself feeling nothing at all, as if he had just forgotten how to feel, knowing, deep down, that there just are no real happy endings in this world...

* * *

**Author's note:**

Long time no see... or something like that.

I'm really, really sorry for the delay! But now I've finally found the time to write the end to this story, or... part of the end, because, let's face it, this isn't really satisfying, is it? But that's just because I decided to split this chapter up and put the second part up as an Epilogue... you'll know when you read it why I did that.

So, I hope you can forgive me for having taken my time with this chapter... and the Epilogue will be up by the end of this week!

Please leave me a review, let me know what you think! =)

Sam


	31. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Four month. One week. Three days.

That was how much time had passed since he'd last been here, since he'd left in the middle of the night.

It was a strange feeling being there again, and for a few minutes they just stood there, staring at the house, and Puck couldn't help but tighten his grip on Sarah's small hand, just to make sure that she was still there. But even though he tried to tell himself, that there was nothing to be nervous about, his heart was beating faster than it should. After all, he was just going home, right?

_Yeah… right._

Home. What a strange word. For most people it probably sounded nice and warm, like a promise of safety and happiness. But the only thing he felt whenever the word rushed through his head, were the chills running down his spine.

Maybe coming back here wasn't such a good idea. Not that the foster home had been a very joyful place, but it had been way better than any moment he'd spent at this house over the last two years. Who was there to say that the nightmare wouldn't just start all over again? That his mom wouldn't just look for the next scumbag to invite into their home? After all, most people don't ever change, and Puck wasn't sure if his mom really deserved a second chance.

The social worker appeared next to them and gave them a reassuring smile before she led the way to the door. Puck swallowed hard, tightened the grip on Sarah's hand once more and took the first step towards the stairs, before climbing them, one at a time, as if every step needed to be considered carefully before taking it, and finally came to a halt in front the white door. Though, white was probably the wrong description for the color. Over time, it had turned more of a dirty grey, and some of the paint had long splintered from the wood. But that was just one of the many indications of the fact that no one had really taken care of this house in a long time.

Their mom opened the door only an instant after they had heard the doorbell ring inside the house, as if she had been standing right behind it for quite some time, waiting for them to finally come home. She seemed nervous, a slight shiver noticeable in her fingers when she shook the social worker's hand before letting them in. The shy smile on her face seemed hesitant, as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to be happy yet.

All but Puck went into the living room, while he kept standing in the doorway, staring at the bottom of the stairs.

_Stories aren't real, Noah… none of them are. _

For a moment, the world seemed to spin out of balance and he had to close his eyes as his sister's voice echoed through his head. He took a deep breath, somehow feeling the sudden urge to just turn around and leave as the memories of that dreaded night swashed over the edge of his mind. His knees seemed to quiver, slightly, when he opened his eyes again, half expecting to see his little sister lying at his feet. But she wasn't. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, next to Mrs. Jennings.

There was a lot of talking for the next hour, but neither Puck nor Sarah uttered a word. They had somehow become passive observers of their own lives, silent listeners who were no longer able to influence what happened to them. And then Mrs. Jennings left, closing the door on their lives when she stepped out of the house.

For a moment, all three of them just stood by the door, not sure, what to do, not sure, what to say. Awkward would have been an understatement. But then their mom gave them another shy smile and motioned for them to get upstairs.

They went into Sarah's room first. Puck couldn't really say why, but he felt like he had to make sure that she got in there alright. But he needn't have worried. The room was almost exactly as they had left it so many nights ago, except that it maybe was a little bit cleaner. But the shelves were still filled with more books than Puck would ever dream to read in his entire life, Sarah's two favorite drawings were still pinned to the wall next to her desk, and the stuffed tiger she had left behind was sitting on her pillow, as if he'd been waiting for her to come back.

Sarah put down her bag, sat down on her bed and grabbed for the striped friend as if he were the only thing in this entire room that she'd really missed. But still, she looked somewhat lost, and Puck felt weird thinking about leaving her alone in here, even if there were only a few feet separating their doors.

"Think you'll be okay in here?", he asked after a minute, somehow wanting to get the reunion with his own room over with as quickly as possible.

"Yeah, I'm fine.", she answered, trying to look confident, but she couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice, a last remainder of the past.

"I'll be back in a sec…" He gave her a quick smile before he made his way to his own room.

Someone had repaired the doorframe, the door now once again the entrance it was supposed to be, and Puck took a deep breath before he reached for the doorknob and entered the room.

A strange prickle spread from the back of his neck down his back while his eyes wandered over the belongings he had left behind. The only thing he had really missed, though, was the one thing he didn't have anymore: His guitar.

But then, why was his guitar case sitting so innocently on his bed? He was sure that he hadn't left it there… he hadn't even touched it since that night when Danny had destroyed his one most valued possession. He didn't really know why, but that black case seemed to draw him into the room like an invisible force pulling at his shirt, and before he even knew what he was doing, he had opened it.

Inside was a guitar and for one fleeting moment he thought that it was his own that had somehow found its way back in there, magically repaired. But when he looked a little closer, he realized that it had to be older. The strings looked as if they hadn't been played in a decade and he could see quite a number of tiny little scratches covering the surface. He stretched out his arm and flinched when his right hand closed around the guitar's neck, a slight pain still running through his fingers every time he moved them, even though his hand had healed just fine. But he'd forgotten all about that only a few seconds later when he sat down on the bed holding the guitar. He picked the strings one at a time, the unpleasant rattling noise telling him that they were more than a little bit out of tune. But he didn't really care about when his eyes suddenly fell on something that had been scratched into the wood of the guitar's neck: Letters. A name. _His _name.

_Noah._

"It belonged to your dad…"

Puck jumped at the sudden voice floating in from the door. But he didn't look up. He wasn't ready to look at her, yet.

"He always said that he wanted you to have it… when you were old enough. But… after he left… I just never found the strength to part with it."

Puck still didn't look up, didn't react to the deep sadness in her voice. He just stared at the name… the name he hated so much that it hurt.

"He did that the week after you were born.", she continued, and even though he didn't want to, Puck listened, as if waiting for some proof that this conversation was actually real. "I just… I think it's time you have it."

"And you think this is gonna change anything?" Puck couldn't keep the slight anger out of his voice. She didn't respond, but then he didn't really care. "Because it doesn't…"

"I… I know. I just… I just hoped that-"

"That what? That you give me the guitar and we'll have an happily-ever-after? That I'll just forget about what happened?" He didn't raise his voice, didn't feel the need to, didn't have the strength. He just felt tired. So tired.

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry isn't gonna cut it…" He hadn't meant to say that, knew that it wasn't exactly the best way to start what was supposed to be their family reunion. But he just couldn't help it. The words just found their way over his lips before he even had the chance to think about it.

"I know." The sadness in her voice was almost unbearable. "I know that I can never take it back, Noah… that I can't undo what happened. But… a lot changed over the last few months… I'm not the same person anymore."

"You really want me to believe that?" The contempt in his voice didn't go unnoticed. "Do you really think that I'm ever gonna forgive you for what you did…?"

She took a deep breath in a feeble attempt to stop her voice from shaking. "Maybe someday…"

"Maybe…"

Silence filled the room while Puck waited for her to say something else. But she didn't, and when he looked up, she was gone. He stood up from his bed and placed the guitar back into the case, his hands jerking away from it as if the mere contact with it had suddenly become painful. He closed the case and put it under his bed, making a promise to himself that he would never look at it again.

Dinner that evening was a little more than uncomfortable, the food on the table acting as yet another barrier that was keeping them apart, the silence a permanent guest within their midst, and Puck was glad when they could finally say their mumbled goodnights before going back upstairs.

But Puck didn't really know what to do with himself after he got back to his room, and so he lay down on his bed half an hour later and turned off the light, even though he didn't feel like sleeping. But before his mind could drift off to the unwanted memories hiding in the back of his head, a faint knock at his door drew his attention.

"Noah? Are you awake?" The muffled voice of his sister sounded anxious.

"Yeah… come in."

The door opened with a slight squeak and a moment later, Sarah's face appeared. Even though it was dark, he could see that her face was rather pale, but knew, that he himself probably didn't look any better.

"Can I stay here tonight?", she asked, still standing at the door. "I don't want to be alone…"

Puck just nodded. He knew exactly how she felt.

A moment later, she had crossed his room and crawled under the covers next to him, next to her brother… so she could feel safe for the night.

"Goodnight, little one…", he said softly, a sad smile on his face, and a few minutes later, she'd closed her eyes and fallen asleep.

But Puck didn't sleep that night.

At first, he just stared at the ceiling, waiting for time to pass, for the hours to tick away, his mind empty off all thoughts. He just didn't dare close his eyes, afraid to wake up and realize, that it had all just been a dream, afraid to wake up to his old life, the life in which Danny was making the rules.

But the thought of Danny sent chills down his spine, and a moment later he'd gotten out of bed. He walked over to the door, came to a halt right next to it, and listened… just listened. But even so he could hear absolutely nothing coming from the other side of it, he couldn't shake off that sickening feeling in his stomach, couldn't shake off the fear.

He took a few steps away from it before he sat down on the floor, his eyes never leaving the wooden surface of the only protection they had against whatever was luring on the other side. Only when the first light of the next morning started to crawl through his window, did he break the eye contact with the door, those few rays of sunlight finally able to take the nightly fear away.

The second night wasn't any different. Just that he sat on the bed instead of the floor, while Sarah slept silently next to him. He just couldn't close his eyes, couldn't risk loosing control even though he war more tired than he'd ever been in his entire life. But then, on the third night, he couldn't hold it off any longer, couldn't fight off the tiredness wearing him down. And he closed his eyes, just for a second, a moment of rest, just to wake up an hour later. Cold sweat was trickling down his face and his heart was racing, pounding against his throat, the heartbeats so load that he feared they could wake up the little girl lying next to him. But she didn't notice. Not his nightmares. Not his fear.

In the end, it took him almost two weeks until he was able to really let go enough of his fear to sleep through a whole night, but still, even though he was able to close his eyes and fall asleep, a small fracture of that fear remained, followed him through every night as his shadow followed him through the day.

And not just his shadow… the shadow of the past, too.

Of course he had already known that it wasn't going to be easy when they had reentered this house, but he'd just never figured it to be _this _hard.

Their mom mostly stayed out of their way at first, knew, that she had to let them decide when they were ready. But, somehow, it felt as if they were getting to know each other all over again, as if they had just met, and even though there was a kind of neutrality between them at the moment, there was no guarantee that that couldn't change... for better or worse. After all, they hadn't been a real family in a long time, even before Danny. But, back then, Puck had still be willing to help her, to tolerate her sometimes manic behavior. But now… with those two years in between… he just couldn't recognize his mother in that woman anymore. She had become a total stranger to him. And he just wasn't sure if he really wanted to get to know her again, because, no matter how hard she tried, how many genuine smiles she gave him, he just couldn't let go of the anger that burned up inside him whenever he saw her face.

But she wasn't the real problem he had during the days. At least he could hide from her. But he couldn't hide from this house.

The first few weeks, whenever a sudden noise echoed through the house, he would stop dead in his tracks, not able to move a muscle. And each time, cold sweat would appear on his forehead, a slight shiver would take over his body, and it would take him quite a while to remember that Danny wasn't there anymore, that Danny wound never be there again. At other times he would suddenly turn around on the spot for no good reason, just to make sure that no one was there waiting behind him.

_He's dead… he can't hurt you anymore!_

But even though he knew that, intellectually, he just couldn't quite get there, emotionally, wasn't able to shake off the fear just yet. It was just always there… a small, half dead something that was hiding out in his body, like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface. And then there were the memories, the memories that were still clinging to his mind, that hung over him like invisible ghosts.

One of the few good things he could say about those first few weeks back, was that Sarah seemed to find her way back to her old self, and maybe one day that tiny scar at the back of her head would be the only reminder of that scary night when they had failed to escape out of this very house.

The other good thing was Finn.

He showed up at Puck's house almost every day, his reasons for coming over sometimes so adventurous that Puck asked himself why Finn had even made them up in the first place, when they both knew perfectly well why he came: to make sure that everything was okay. And even though Puck would never admit it, would never say it out loud, he was thankful for it, thankful that there was someone out there who was willing to make sure that he was alright.

It was as if baby-gate had never happened, as if they had just turned back the clock.

And Finn came over that one Sunday night three weeks after Puck and Sarah had come back to live with their mom. They wanted to watch the final game of the NBA play-offs at Finn's place, while Sarah had a sleepover at a friend's house.

Puck was in a slightly desperate search for a clean shirt, when Finn opened the door to his room. Puck turned around instantly at the sudden noise, and his heart skipped a few beats before he realized that the person standing at the door, wasn't Danny.

"Dude… don't sneak up on me like that…"

"Sorry… I didn't mean to… I mean, I just…" Finn didn't seem to be able to find the right words as a hint of guilt flashed over his face.

"It's okay… no need to bite your tongue off.", Puck replied before he turned away to continue his search. "I guess I'm just a bit on edge lately…" That was probably an understatement, but neither of them commented on that.

Finn just kept standing at the door while Puck looked through his clothes, his eyes wandering over the room before they came to a rest on the scar on Puck's lower back. Finn had never seen that one before, but by now he had heard about how that had happened, and couldn't help but flinch at the thought of the glass table breaking under the weight of Puck's body, the glass shards piercing through his skin. But then Puck turned around, a clean shirt finally having found its way into his hands, to reveal the much fresher scar on his stomach. Finn didn't even notice Puck looking at him until he heard his voice. "What're you staring at?"

"Nothing… I mean…" Finn tried to take his eyes away from it, but they seemed to be glued to that scar. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes… but not in a bad way… not anymore." Puck swallowed hard, trying to get the lump out of his throat that had appeared instantly as his minds had rushed back to that tiny fraction of a moment that had almost ended his life.

"What do you mean?", Finn asked, finally raising his head.

"I don't know… I can't really explain it." Puck shrugged. "It's like that pain's telling me that I survived, you know? Like a war wound or something."

"But it will also remind you of what happened… always…" Even now, the thought of what had happened that night seemed to scare Finn more than anything else ever had.

"I guess I'll just have to live with that…", Puck replied before he put on the fresh shirt. "And besides, chicks dig scars, right?", he added, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"You're unbelievable…" Finn shook his head, but returned the smile. "So… you're up for the game?"

"Can't wait…", Puck said as he picked up his bag.

"I thought you didn't like watching basketball."

"I don't." Puck seemed amused just from seeing the slightly confused expression on Finn's face.

"Didn't we, like, agree that you wouldn't lie anymore?", he asked as they left Puck's room and went down the stairs.

"Hey, you asked… and watching the game is better than staying here, so… I'll pretend that I like it…", Puck replied when he closed the front door behind them a moment later, the smile still on his face. For the shortest of moments, the old Puck came back to life behind that smile, and when they walked over to the car, Puck suddenly turned back around, thinking that, one day, he might even call this house a home again.

And with another smile on his face, he added: "Besides… what's in a lie anyway?"

* * *

**Author's note:**

So, this is it! The final chapter...

It's not what I would call a real happy ending, but then you won't ever find that in my stories... especially not in stories as dark as this.

Okay... another thing: this is the first long fanfiction that I've ever finished, and I have to say: It feels awesome!

Right...

And now, that you all have read through the whole story, I really, really hope that you will let me know what you think, to give me a final review on this story! ... pretty please? [Even if it's been months or year since I've posted it... I will still read them!]

Oh, and of course, I want to thank ALL OF YOU for reading and reviewing! THANK YOU so much!

Until next time!

Sam

p.s. next storie's already building up in my head... just need to find time to write it down. See you there... =)


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